


Goob's Story

by maskedxmaestro



Category: Meet the Robinsons (2007)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-29
Updated: 2017-01-28
Packaged: 2018-09-20 13:38:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 15
Words: 28,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9493889
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maskedxmaestro/pseuds/maskedxmaestro
Summary: All is well for Lewis Robinson after his great time traveling adventure. But whatever happened to Bowler Hat Guy? Does he ever learn to keep moving forward or is his future full of nothing but despair? Goob must discover what truly matters in life to fully understand Lewis' motto.





	1. Chapter 1

When thinking of a typical family dinner, most words that come to mind would be “calm” or “peaceful”, and maybe even “boring” depending on the specific family in question. But dinner at the Robinson’s household was anything but ordinary. From gravy being pulled by a train, to singing frogs on the chandelier, and even the occasional food fight, it was hard not to grin at the foolishness of it all. The Robinsons were certainly no ordinary family and as such they believed that any moment could be taken advantage of to be creative and to have fun. Tonight was certainly no different.  
    Franny Robinson sat at the head of the table. Her black hair swooped back into an elegant cow lick and her dress neatly folded against the chair. She was the head of the household, and as such looked on with poise and grace while her family chatted before her.  
    Lucille and Bud, the grandparents of the household, were busy discussing the fine qualities of grapefruits. Joe and Billie, Franny’s in-laws, debated how big of a splatter a grapefruit would make if it were run over by a train. Mrs. Robinson’s brothers Gaston and Art considered a possible race to see who could save the grapefruit before it was rudely splattered. Meanwhile, Tallulah and Laszlo, the brother and sister in-laws, were fighting over who could design a better furniture set. And who couldn’t forget about Petunia and Fritz, parents of the obnoxious furniture-set arguing siblings, who were busy bickering about who was going to stop their children from nit-picking each other.  
    All in all, there was a lot of noise in the dining room. Which wasn’t uncommon on a daily basis. In fact, had the room been quiet, the entire affair would have been very unusual. But Franny wasn’t paying attention to the sound coming from her relatives. Rather, she was focusing on the opposite end of the table where a man with spikey blonde hair and round glasses was sitting. This was in fact her husband, Cornelius Robinson. Famous inventor and world-renowned for his latest creation - the time machine. To picture a grand scientist such as he would have one immediately imagining a tall and proud member of the family, sitting up straight and offering all kinds of fascinating theories to the dinner table. But while Cornelius did in fact have days where he acted as such, tonight was not the case. Instead, he slumped in his chair and stared at his food with no particular interest, staying silent and looking rather depressed. Hence, why Franny was so focused on him.  
    As head of the household, Mrs. Robinson was use to understanding when someone tried to hide their true emotions from others. There were plenty of occasions where she had offered advice to a guilt-ridden family member to ease their pain. It was what she did best. With just one look at Cornelius’ face, she could tell something was wrong. But what Franny didn’t understand, however, was what exactly was wrong. For Mr. Robinson had, in actuality, been acting strange all week. And not once had he offered any kind of hint as to what might be on his mind.  
    Twirling her fork between her fingers, Franny’s eyes squinted with frustration. She was determined to figure out her husband’s upsetting and ultimately, to fix it. But it worried her that he didn’t come out and say it first. Their relationship had always been built on trust and whenever one had doubts, they would come to the other for advice. This was the first time in a very long time that Cornelius was refusing to be the first to speak up and it bothered her. Whatever it was that was on his mind must be truly troubling if it meant keeping it from her.  
    What is it? she thought. What could it be?  
    After a moment or two of brooding, Franny finally decided she had had enough. Standing up, she walked over to the other side of the table (narrowly avoiding a thrown tomato by an outraged Tallulah) and placed her hand on her husband’s shoulder.  
    “Alright, you’ve been in a mood for a week now. What’s wrong?”  
    Cornelius appeared to snap to attention as though he had been asleep with his eyes open.  
    “Huh?” he managed to say, blinking up at her. Finally registering what she had said, the inventor turned his head away with embarrassment and looked around at the table quickly. “Oh, I, uh, well, I was just wondering where Wilbur was.”  
    Franny gave a face of sarcasm as it was obvious that she had caught him in a lie to avoid the real answer.  
    “Our son is in the kitchen, as he has been all week, cleaning. But I think you know that since we’re both the ones that grounded him.”  
    Cornelius grinned sheepishly up at his wife before looking down at his plate and shrugging. It was a bad attempt to avoid the question but at least he had tried.  
    “You’re going to tell me what’s wrong after dinner.” Mrs. Robinson said.  
    Cornelius took in a large breath before letting it out slowly.  
    “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I should. Alright.”  
    Satisfied with knowing she wouldn’t be left in the dark, Franny smiled and returned back to her seat to finish dinner, looking ever so forward to what her husband would say.  
\---  
    With the plates cleared and having stopped a moment to give her son Wilbur an encouraging word to clean each dish carefully, Franny was finally ready to talk to Cornelius privately. As soon as dinner was over he had taken the liberty of whisking away upstairs before anyone could ask where he was going, which concerned her.  
    Making her way upstairs, Mrs. Robinson entered her husband’s laboratory. It was a giant domed conservatory filled with many types of machinery for experiments old and new. There were machines larger than an elephant and there were machines that could fit in your palm. Colorful or plain metallic, each was unique and each contained the power to do something extraordinary. Tables were spread across the room covered with tubing and random vials filled with liquids. Papers were scattered around with notes here and there on different hypotheses. It was Cornelius’ safe haven, a place of intellect as well as play. And because the room was known for its exciting birth of new ideas, Franny was almost startled to see it at night. With only the moonlight and stars bouncing off of the shining surfaces, the room felt heavy with sadness rather than alight with gaiety. But perhaps it wasn’t the machinery that drove this mood but rather the man that stood in the center of it all. His hands were shoved deep into his white coat pockets and he stared up at the night sky with a furrowed brow.  
    “Cornelius?” Mrs. Robinson whispered, afraid to speak any louder lest to disturb the quiet room.  
    “Hey...” he responded with a heavy heart, turning to look at his wife.  
    “Cold up here.” she said, rubbing her arms absentmindedly.  
    “Yes, a little.” the inventor agreed, nodding his head slightly. They shared a moment’s silence, staring at each other.  
    “So...” Franny began. “Will you let me in on what’s going on?”  
    Cornelius smiled weakly before nodding again.  
    “It’s funny... I had always looked forward to this week.”  
    “This week?”  
    “Yeah... This week.” Mr. Robinson turned and slowly moved towards one of the tables littered with books. “You know how it was only a week and a half ago that Wilbur caused the whole time machine loop hole involving my past self? And I told you all about how I remember being twelve and experiencing that big adventure.”  
    Franny nodded. She did know. He had sat her down and explained the entire thing. Boy, was that a long conversation. Fascinating to say the least. She stepped forward, following him to the table and letting him continue talking.  
    “I told you everything that happened from beginning to end from my point of view. But what I didn’t tell you was what I did after the big adventure. What I thought in those next few days after I left Wilbur on the rooftop of that orphanage. You see, I remember going back to the past that day when I eventually won the science fair with my memory scanner. I felt so happy. I looked so forward to the future, when I would live with my wonderful family and be able to invent great things for good people to enjoy them. But what I looked forward to the most was this specific week.”  
    “Why this week?” Franny asked with a confused tone.  
    “I knew that if I played my cards right, I would for sure be able to live with all of you. Have the house that I dreamed of. Live the life I always wanted. It was never a mystery to me because I had seen it with the time machine. I knew it would happen so I didn’t have to worry. Life was, in a way, set up for me. But there was still one thing I wasn’t sure about. Just one thing I didn’t have an answer for. And that was this.”  
    Cornelius reached forward among the books on the table and pulled forth a pink binder. The face of a white unicorn was on the front along with hearts and sparkles.  
    “What is that?” questioned Mrs. Robinson.  
    “This belonged to my roommate. Goob. Michael. You see, that day a week and a half ago when I met my past twelve-year-old self, Goob was there earlier. Before I came back from my trip, my younger self stood alongside Wilbur and instructed him to invite my roommate to live with us here in this house. But before I knew it, Goob had disappeared, having dropped this before he ran. I always wondered what had happened to him. Where he went and what he did with his life. I thought for sure that once I had grown up that I would find out. That perhaps a few days later he would show up on our doorstep, wanting to reconsider my offer to stay here. But... it’s been more than a week, Franny, and I haven’t heard a word. I’m worried about him. He doesn’t have a family to go home to. I’m not even sure if he has a real home at all.”  
    Mrs. Robinson stared up at her husband’s face. It was etched with sadness and she could tell that this was important to him. Reaching forward, she took the binder in her hands and opened it. Inside there was written a checklist, most of it having been scribbled out. The last unmarked checkbox, however, remained untouched with a question mark next to it. Franny’s heart sank slightly at the sight of it before closing the binder and setting it down.  
    “Honey, you can’t let this get you down. He chose his path. It wasn’t your fault.”  
    “I know it wasn’t my fault.” Cornelius said, rubbing the back of his neck. “I just feel like he’s out there somewhere lost and confused. I was so sure that he would come back and he hasn’t. What if he’s still stuck on the past? What if he blames himself and will never be happy? What if-”  
    “Cornelius...” Franny interrupted, staring up with pity in her eyes. “You’ve always been sure of yourself because you had a time machine to tell you what to look forward to. You knew if you took the right measures, you’d have a bright future ahead of you. But honey... Not everyone has a great adventure like you got to have. Not everyone is sure of themselves in such a strong way that they can keep moving forward without guidance. Some people can’t move forward. Sometimes they’re just... stuck.” She put her fingers gently on his arm.  
    A deep pang of guilt flowed through the inventor’s heart. He winced as though the pain he felt were so strong that he could physically feel it. Franny sensed this and immediately continued to speak.  
    “But... If you feel that badly about it, why don’t you find him? Perhaps he really does wish to stay here but feels too shy to come back and ask now that he has already denied it once.”  
    Cornelius tilted his head in thought. His eyebrows relaxed as he mulled the idea over. It wasn’t actually half-bad. Finding him might be difficult but, well, wait. Would it be difficult? If he had to guess one place where Goob had gone after having disappeared that day, where would he guess?      
    Mrs. Robinson smiled at the expression on her husband’s face. It had changed from melancholy to curiosity in just a matter of seconds. It was the same smirk he gave when an idea for an invention came to life.  
    “What?” she asked him.  
    “Franny...” Mr. Robinson said, turning to look at her. “I’m going to need a box.”


	2. Two

On the outskirts of Todayland sat an old and desolate brick building. What once was a full and busy orphanage now was an abandoned reflection of yesteryear. The facade was now cracked and left to the elements, abandoned to someday be demolished by someone who was willing to pay for it. But since no one had any ideas on what to replace it with, the building was left to creak and settle by itself.  
    Compared to the bright and bubbly new buildings in the surrounding area, the 6th Street Orphanage definitely stuck out like a sore thumb. How it had managed to survive as long as it had was anyone’s guess. Just one look at it and one was sure to instantly become a tad bit sadder. The drooped windows and crumbling walls alone could send a pang of extra weight to one’s heart.  
    But perhaps the saddest thing of all about the orphanage was not its rusted hinges or the rotting wood planks nailed across the front doors. Nor was it the many empty beds that littered the bedrooms inside. The saddest thing was the man that still lived there, hidden from the outside world.  
    Nestled high in the building, within the room he had called home since childhood, Michael Yagoobian laid in the very same bunk bed he had slept in all his life. He was tall, thin as a rake, and completely covered in black attire. From the cape around his neck to his heeled boots to even his long dark brown mustache, “Goob”, as they called him, was certainly a character. But while his visage could certainly cause a bit of a laughter, his current mental state of mind was not something to be laughed at.  
    Depression was not a deep enough word to describe what Michael was feeling. His entire body felt like it was sinking into the bed beneath him. He felt exhausted and yet wide awake at exactly the same time. Moving was difficult, as though every bone desired nothing more than to remain in the same place until all eternity. Hunger was not something that he felt and as such he had gone without eating for nearly the entire week and a half that he had been lying there. What was bothering him? In one word: Loneliness.  
    Goob had been alone nearly all of his life. From never having been adopted to living out his days in an abandoned orphanage, he never had anyone significant in his life for very long. It was true that Cornelius Robinson once slept in the very bed above him, but that had been so very long ago. Thirty years ago, to be exact. And after having been alone for so long, one would think that living by himself wouldn’t bother Michael, but due to recent circumstances, that thought process was heavily misunderstood.  
    It was merely a week and a half ago that Goob’s life had changed dramatically. Originally, his life had been filled with anger and hatred, driven to the thought of revenge against Cornelius over a small mishap that had been blown far out of proportion. But all of that changed when a young boy proved to him that life did not have to be filled with regret and frustration. All one had to do was to keep moving forward and to let go of the past. It was a beautiful motto and certainly one to be remembered but there was only one problem. How was Michael suppose to move forward? He had spent the last thirty years of his life brooding over one subject and nothing else. He had no family, no friends, and his childhood dream of becoming a baseball star was long behind him. What more was there to live for? And if this all wasn’t enough to send him reeling into despair, there was still yet one more problem on top of it all.  
    Doris.  
    Doris was a bowler hat. A robotic one that had the ability to communicate and understand just as well as any human would be able to. She was the ultimate reason for Goob’s dramatic life change and further more, the number one reason for his depression.  
    She had appeared to him as though out of a dream, promising to aide him in his quest for revenge against Cornelius. To Goob, Doris was the only friend he had ever had and as such, the dearest. She had helped him in what he believed at the time to be the right path in life to take. And that was what any good friend was meant to do.  
    Unfortunately for Michael, Doris was not the friend that he had so strongly believed her to be. She betrayed him, tricking him into assisting her desire to take over the world. Had she succeeded, he would certainly not be alive today.  
    But was he thankful for that, really? To be alive and unhappy, living out the rest of his days alone in a dirty building? Staring blankly at the iron poles that made up the top bunk above him, tears began to form in the corners of his eyes. Although his goals had been entirely misguided, life without Doris seemed meaningless. He had, for the first time ever, been happy when she had been there. And even now he wished there was a way to bring her back, despite what her true intentions were. Sure, he had been alone before. He knew how to handle that. But after having a taste of what it was like to be so close to someone, even if they didn’t return the same feelings, the loneliness was too much to bear.  
    Thus, Goob laid upon his bed refusing to move. The tears that formed never fell, as they hadn’t for the entire week and a half that he’d been lying there, but they made his vision blurry. Blinking, he turned his head slowly to look out the window. It was a beautiful blue sky with bright white clouds. Todayland’s tall buildings could be seen as well as large red letters on a billboard that read, “KEEP MOVING FORWARD”. The message, while its intention was meant for inspiration, met Goob’s heart with a painful stabbing. It mocked him with its bright and cheerful motivation. Insulting what was clearly not a bright future for him. Yet despite the anguish felt within his stomach, Michael couldn’t tear his eyes away. They were glued to the letters, tracing each line that made up the individual shapes. Perhaps it was a way to pass the time. Or perhaps it was the only thing he could do to keep his mind from thinking too hard.  
    Anger slowly began to fill his heart. His lips curled into a sneer as the billboard caused the thought of Cornelius to enter his mind. That stupid inventor. Those words meant nothing to Goob. What did that inventor ever do for him other than talk of false promises? Keep moving forward was impossible. It was a dream only for those that still had a life worth living. And given his current living situation, Goob felt he definitely didn’t have one of those. In fact, really, why did he exist at all? Shouldn’t Lewis have gone back in time and fixed the past? Shouldn’t that mean he shouldn’t exist now in this alternative time? Did Lewis forget about him and not go back to wake him up from the baseball game? What kind of so-called “friend” would leave him in the dust like that?  
    Unless of course Lewis did go back and fix the time stream which would be a terribly frightening thought. That would mean either his life would still end up in this fashion or else there were two Michael Yagoobians in existence. Wait, that wasn’t possible, though, was it?  
    Goob raised his hands to his head and pressed his fingers against his temples. All this time travel stuff was awfully confusing. For a moment he forgot about his anger and instead was trapped in his confused state of mind.  
    Suddenly something interrupted the silence.  
    Knock, knock, knock.  
    Startled, Goob blinked and lowered his hands. Had he just heard..?  
    Knock, knock, knock.  
    No... it couldn’t be... could it..? But this building was abandoned... who in their right mind would walk up to it and knock on the d-  
    “Goob!” shouted a horribly familiar voice.  
    Completely taken by surprise, Michael gasped and sat up fast, unexpectedly hitting his head against the bed above him. Dazed, he raised his hands to his head to comfort his now aching skull. Turning towards the window, he waited a moment to see if he would hear the voice again. Surely it was just his imagination...  
    “Goob, it’s me! Lewis!”  
    Oh, no, he had heard a familiar voice! Raising himself very slowly from the bed, Michael slunk over to the window, being sure to keep out of sight. He pressed his back hard against the wall before daring to inch his head forward to peer down at the front steps. His eyes widened at what he saw. Cornelius Robinson stood on the top step, a box in his hands. The inventor was looking directly up at the window that Michael was looking out of.  
    “Goob! I knew you would be here!”  
    Gasping again and cursing at himself for having been seen, Michael immediately dropped to the floor and raised his knees up to his chin. Nervously putting his clenched hands to his mouth, Goob frantically looked around the room for means of escape. What was Cornelius doing here?!  
    “Wait! Don’t go! Goob, I have something for you! Wont you let me in?”  
    Michael closed his eyes. It was a ridiculous attempt at making the inventor go away but he tried it never the less. Why did Lewis have to show up at his door? And now of all times? The last they had spoken was technically thirty years ago for the inventor. A week and a half for himself. And their last topic of conversation had been where Cornelius had invited Goob to live with he and his family at the Robinson household, despite all the harm that he had intended upon the young Lewis. Michael had panicked, running off without answering the invitation. To see his roommate now, even if it technically was thirty years later, would be incredibly awkward.  
    Silence fell. Goob dared not look out the window but after a minute passed he wondered if the inventor had finally given up. Just when he was about to sigh in relief, Cornelius spoke again. This time not a yell, but simply a calm and steady tone of voice.  
    “I’m not here to interrogate you about wanting to live with me. I just want to give you something and then I’ll leave. But if you don’t want to talk, that’s okay. I’ll leave the box by the doorstep.”  
    Goob felt too paralyzed to speak. Playing with his fingers and staring hard at the desk opposite the room, Michael waited to hear Cornelius’ footsteps. Sure enough, after a moment or two of waiting patiently, a soft thumping could be heard echoing away into the distance. He was gone. Goob stood up slowly and twisted around to peer out the window. A medium sized box approximately the size of a small tv was sitting on the doormat. He looked up to see if Cornelius was still in the process of walking away but he saw no one and thus decided it would be safe to walk downstairs.  
    Creeping gently to the front door, Michael pulled the doorknob back. A long and low creaking sound released into the front hallway but he paid no mind to it. Ducking underneath the boards that had been nailed into the door frame, Goob quickly looked around to see if anyone had seen him. Eyeing no one, he rushed forward to grab the box (which was lighter than he had expected) and dove back into the orphanage, slamming the door shut.  
    Kneeling down to the floor, he stared at the box before him. What could possibly be inside? What would Lewis have that he would want? Was it an invention, perhaps? His eyes squinted suspiciously at it as though it were filled with something that could potentially jump out and bite him. But that was a silly thought. Cornelius was innocent and he had learned the hard way that the inventor never meant him any harm. Reaching tentatively forward, Goob placed his fingers along the edge and slowly lifted the flaps.  
    Immediately his body jerked back at the sight. His heart raced as though he expected what was inside to jump out and attack but after a moment of calming himself, he slowly slumped and a sad expression fell upon his face. His eyebrows raised to a confusion of emotions. His stomach flipped at what was inside and yet a heavy weight seemed to slowly drop into his throat.  
    A plain black bowler hat sat atop his old pink unicorn binder. The hat was not his dear robotic friend for it did not have a camera lens but the shape of the hat itself seemed oddly similar to hers. The sight of it caused his heart to break. Slipping his hands gently into the box, he lifted the hat up to see it better, fingers curling against the edges. There were no metal legs nor any kind of machinery inside the hat. It was definitely not her. And yet...  
    “Doris...” he whispered aloud. It was too painfully similar not to say her name. Just as he spoke, something fell from the inside of the hat. Looking down, Goob noticed a folded piece of paper that had been stuffed within it. He set the bowler down upon his lap before picking up the paper and unfolding it.  
         “Dear Michael,  
        I assumed that you would not wish to speak with me and so I wrote this note to accompany the box that I have given you. It’s been a long time since I’ve last seen you and there’s much I wish I could tell you but I understand your wanting to be left alone. You can be rest assured that I will not attempt to bother you after this. You deserve to live in peace. However, I appeared with this box because I thought perhaps you might want your binder back. You use to carry it with you everywhere when we were kids and since you dropped it over a week ago I figured you’d want it back.  
    I have also left for you a hat. I found it in the attic of my house. It belonged to an old relative of my wife Franny and she had kept it in storage, unsure of what to do with it. I have sent it to you for two reasons. One, I’m assuming you live alone and this is the only way I can help ease the thought of you being by yourself. While it may not be able to beep or move, I thought perhaps you could use it as a soft reminder of times gone by so that the past did not haunt you as badly, since I’m guessing it does. And reason number two, I believe this to be the very hat that I would have used had I actually implemented the Helping Hat. Often times when inventing I try to use things around the home and I truly think that this bowler hat would have become DOR-15. Upon this realization, I thought it only necessary that you were the one to have it. Franny was understanding and allowed my giving it to you.  
    I can only hope that these items offer some kind of closure for the adventure we had. And if this is the last time that I have a chance to say something to you, then I wish you all the best in your future. I do hope you re-consider my offer of staying with us, but I understand if you don’t.    
    Keep moving forward,     Lewis”  
      
    Goob let the note slip from his fingers and drift to the floor. Staring at the hat in his lap like a deer in the headlights, slowly his shoulders began to shake. And then his hands. And then his arms. And soon his lip began to tremble. At first he pushed the hat away from him, too caught up in his emotions to want to have anything to do with it. But after a moment of simply staring at it, all the rage and anger he had been feeling for thirty years seemed to swell up in his throat all at once. He quickly grabbed the hat back. Sucking in an air full of breath, Michael gripped the hat tightly towards his chest and hugged it, finally releasing the tears he had held back for so long.  
    He continued to weep for hours.


	3. Three

“Well... how did it go?”  
    Franny followed Cornelius around the house like a dog, eager to hear the news. He had returned several hours ago from his hunt for Goob but she hadn’t realized due to the fact that she was busy training her frogs to sing. She figured he might be gone for a while if he had been successful in speaking with his old roommate and so she decided to bide her time until his return. But since Cornelius hadn’t come to her right away with the latest insight on the whereabouts of Goob and whether or not he had been able to deliver the binder and hat, she was suddenly concerned that perhaps her husband had learned the hard way that his roommate wasn’t intending to ever come back. She hated seeing him so upset, even if she had expected this outcome all along.  
    “I don’t know why I thought it would turn out differently.” Cornelius said, aimlessly walking down the second floor hallway. The right wall was covered in family portraits, some big and some small. The left side wall was made entirely of glass so as to offer a beautiful overlook of the countryside. At the moment the sun was preparing to set, casting long and dark shadows across the landscape. “Looking back on it he acted exactly like how I should have known he would. I suppose I just hoped seeing me like this and not when I was twelve might have eased him into coming here.”  
    “You know you can’t force him here.”  
    “I know that.”  
    “Did he at least appreciate what you sent him?”  
    Cornelius paused, turning to look at Franny. He chewed the inside of his lip, thinking.  
    “I didn’t see him open it. But I did see him take it inside. I hid behind a car and looked through the window to watch for him to open the front door. He didn’t notice me.”  
    Franny nodded her head.  
    “And that’s all you can do for now.”  
    Cornelius nodded back before sighing and turning to look out the large window before him. Franny leaned her head against his shoulder, staring at the orange and yellow sunset. Dark clouds were gathering in the distance, an ominous sign of the storm that would no doubt hit the house by midnight.  
    “You’re right.” He said.  
    “I always am.” She grinned, giving him a small kiss on the shoulder.   
  
    ---------------------------------------  
      
    Rain poured down in sheets upon the Robinson’s household. Giant globs of water crashed into the roof so heavily that the noise nearly sounded like horse hooves. Trees appeared to dance from the water splashing against each leaf and the ground formed puddles large enough to be considered small ponds. It had been a long time since Todayland had seem this much rain. And if the loud water droplets weren’t bad enough, the howling wind made it all the worse. From clanging tree branches against windows to the sound of air rushing past so fast that one could hardly be mistaken if they thought it was a train, it was a wonder that anyone was able to sleep through it.   
    In the master bedroom slept Cornelius and Franny Robinson. While it had certainly taken a while for them to fall asleep, they now snoozed quietly through the storm.  
    That is, until a pounding was heard on the front door. Neither of the Robinsons heard it at first, seeing as how the storm was loud enough as it was to not bother them. But after a full minute of incessant knocking, they both were startled awake.  
    Franny blinked a few times, groggily leaning up onto an elbow to look around with a dazed expression. Cornelius was a little more conscious and thus was able to turn and grab his glasses from the night stand before staring at the door of the bedroom. Who could possibly be knocking at this hour..?  
    Suddenly Cornelius’ eyes went wide and he perked up as an idea of who could be at the door came to mind. He threw the covers off of him before shushing Franny and telling her to go back to sleep. Too excited by the prospect of an unexpected guest, the inventor didn’t bother putting on his slippers (although he did grab his lab coat as that was almost always on his person). Rushing down the steps, he was just in time to tell their butler Lefty to leave the door alone and that he would get it. The purple octopus groaned, clearly a bit upset over having been woken up, but obeyed and returned to its room.   
    Cornelius hesitated. The person, whoever it was, was still pounding at the door, desperate to get inside. But the inventor still paused his hand above the doorknob. Could it be..? Would he really come at this hour? In this storm?  
    There was only one way to find out. He snatched the handle and pulled open the door as hard as he could. Immediately, two clenched hands that had been slamming against the door fell forward and the person nearly tumbled over. Catching themselves against the door frame, they looked up at Cornelius with pitiful eyes.  
    “Goob...” The inventor whispered, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.  
    Shivering from the rain, drenched in water and unable to speak, Goob turned suddenly as though he suddenly regretted appearing at the door.  
    “No, wait-!” Cornelius yelled, reaching forward to grab the air. Michael hesitated, stuck between fight-or-flight.   
    “At least come in from the rain?” the inventor pleaded, not wanting to let his old roommate leave his grasp now that he had a second chance to talk.  
    Goob stared at Cornelius for a long moment. Debating on whether or not to go inside. But after locking eyes to see if he trusted the inventor, Goob finally made the decision to step forward. Regardless of this small trust, however, Michael was sure to be hesitant and even crouched slightly as he crept by his old “friend”. Cornelius moved backward to let him, smiling all the while, before shutting the door quietly behind him.   
    There couldn’t have been two more opposite feelings in one room. The inventor gazed with fascination and happiness, his smile never fading at the chance of fixing what he had done. He was so glad that his friend was re-considering his offer, that is, if that was what Goob was here for. Why else would he be here? Meanwhile, Michael, who didn’t actually come to survey a future home, felt completely awkward.   
    It was the first time Michael had ever been inside the Robinson household. Instinctively he raised his hands to his opposite elbows in a protective hunched-over stance. He nervously looked around as though he expected something to jump out at him from any angle. Eventually he turned to look at the inventor who was busy watching him with curiosity.   
    “Maybe we should talk in the study.” Cornelius said before walking over to the left side of the front hall and stepping into the next room. Goob followed without a word, still looking around with a shifty-eyed expression.  
    The study was dark. Two yellow couches sat opposite each other between an abstract rug. There was a fireplace centered on the wall as well as a desk and some books to one side of the room.   
    Cornelius stepped forward and flipped a small switch next to the mantel. A fire started with a spark within the chimney and almost immediately the room began to fill with heat. The room flickered with the light, revealing a strange yellow glow against the immediate objects nearby. The inventor turned around to see where Goob was. He was standing near the doorway, apparently still untrusting of the inventor.  
    “You’re soaking wet and probably cold. It would be good to sit by the fire.”  
    Goob didn’t move. At least not at first. He played with his fingers in his hands for a moment before slinking forward with his long legs to sit upon the left side couch. Cornelius sat opposite him, clasping his hands in his lap. It was an awkward silence.   
    The inventor looked at Goob with fascination. His friend, if he could even call him that yet, seemed troubled. Understandably so. A lot of time had past and a lot had happened to each. Yet while they both had things they needed to say, neither were able to start the conversation. There was so much Cornelius wished he could say. So many words to try and explain the last thirty years. And yet there was no easy way to begin. But judging by the expression on his old roommate’s face, Goob wasn’t going to start first.  
    “So... you got my letter then?” Cornelius asked. Michael looked up from the floor and met the inventor’s gaze. Slowly, he nodded. Both of them looked away from the other. Cornelius stared at the fire. This conversation was going nowhere. He had to be up front and forward if he was going to get an answer.   
    “Have you...” he said slowly, not removing his gaze from the flames. “...considered my offer?”  
    Michael snapped to attention.  
    “I’m not here for that.” he snapped angrily.   
    Cornelius blinked.  
    “Oh.” he said, completely confused. What else was Goob here for? He furrowed his brow, staring at the man before him with a puzzled expression. Was he not here to beg to be brought back into the house? Not that he would have to beg in the first place, that is. Cornelius knew the second he opened the door that he was intending to allow him to do so.   
    “But... why are you here then?” The inventor asked.  
    “I... Well... uh...” Goob trailed off in his response, shifting his eyes around the room nervously and playing with his hands. His manner had changed from annoyance to embarrassment. “I wanted to... to... to ask you a favor.”  
    Cornelius now was more confused than ever.  
    “Oh.” he said in the same tone he had used before. “Well... what is it?” he asked, leaning forward with his elbows against his knees.  
    Goob didn’t respond, nervously twiddling his thumbs and staring at the floor. Whatever it was, he was uncomfortable asking. But Cornelius didn’t pressure him into answering, assuming he would speak when he was ready to. Finally, Michael reached behind his back into the folds of his cape and removed a black object which he set upon his lap. Upon the sight of it, Cornelius sat back with a suspicious air. Light from the fireplace flickered against it. The inventor was suddenly nervous of the favor that Goob needed.  
    “Please...” Goob started to say, curling his fingers against the edges of the hat. “Rebuild her.”  
    Cornelius’ eyes grew wide and he nearly gawked had he not tried hard to suppress it.  
    “What?!”  
    “Rebuild her.” He repeated. “You build machines and robots and other mechanical... science-y... things.”  
    “Goob... I can’t do that.”  
    “Please.”  
    “I can’t do that! You know what she did! If I re-built her, she’d do the same exact thing as before!”  
    Michael remained quiet, looking down at the bowler hat with sadness. Cornelius couldn’t believe what Goob was asking of him. How could he possibly think that was a good idea? And especially after having learned what Doris had done to betray him. Why on Earth would he want her back now?   
    “Goob, why would you want this? She did nothing but harm everyone around her. She took over everything. I showed that to you. What’s the point in-”  
    “We were the perfect team.”  
    “What? Goob...”  
    “Lewis, I have nothing. Nothing but a crushed dream and the room we use to live in.”  
    “But Goob, you have-”  
    “I need her. I can’t live alone anymore.”  
    “But don’t you see that you could live-”  
    “I need her. Maybe not exactly the way she was, but at least the good parts that I remember!”  
    “Goob, you don’t-”  
    “Stop calling me that!” Michael suddenly bursted out, gripping the edges of the bowler hat out of anger. Cornelius, shocked by the yelling, kept quiet. Goob continued to glare before looking back down at this lap.  
    “You don’t understand.” he said, tucking the hat back into the folds of his cape.  
    He stood, making Cornelius feel that he had to do the same. The inventor looked concerned, raising his hands as though ready to stop Goob from leaving but he found he was unable to bring himself to do it. Before Cornelius could do anything, Michael broke into a sprint and ran for the door. Cornelius stumbled forward, missing the chance to grab his old roommate. Goob flung the front door open and disappeared into the heavy rain. Cornelius ran after him but stopped at the door, instead choosing to stand and try to yell after him. But his voice was lost in the storm and Michael was already gone.


	4. Four

“I just don’t understand.” Cornelius said, palm resting against his forehead in frustration. “Rebuild Doris? Why would he want that? It makes absolutely no sense at all.”  
    He paced around his laboratory, sighing here and there and muttering under his breath. Mrs. Robinson, meanwhile, sat in a nearby chair and played with her fingers as she watched him with worry.  
    “He could live here with us and be happy! I know he would be happy here. What’s wrong with us? He’d have a family, and he wouldn’t be alone, and-”  
    “Honey, you’re thinking the wrong way about this.” Franny interjected.  
    “What do you mean?” Cornelius asked, not stopping his pacing. Being unable to fix his old roommate’s situation was upsetting him. He had worked hard to try and prove that moving forward was always the best solution. It was difficult to see someone so obviously in need of help reject his advice. Especially in this situation where he remembered feeling just as alone and scared about not having a future in the same way that he believed Goob was feeling now. It was a terrible feeling. The fact that Goob had been living with that fear for the past thirty years was troubling.  
    “Well... I mean, think about it. He’s been stuck in that same place for all those years, pent up and feeling nothing but anger and resentment towards you. He’s probably not very social and doesn’t do too well around others. It would be natural for him to form a sort of... bond... with an object rather than a real person. Especially an object that could still communicate very well and act like a human but not actually be human.”  
    Cornelius stopped pacing and put a finger to his chin. He stared at the floor hard in thought. Franny certainly made an excellent point. However...  
    “But Doris wouldn’t want to be his friend.” Cornelius explained. “She wanted nothing more than to control everything. She used him. If I built her the way I had before, it wouldn’t be any different. She’d leave him in the gutter or worse.”  
    “He’s in denial. He looks back on those memories and only remembers what he believed was happening during those times. He saw friendship and that’s all that matters to him. He’s not thinking about the bad that she did or the fact that she lied to him. He believes her to be good because he doesn’t want to remember the bad. His mind is refusing to let go of the part he misses because he’s that desperate for a connection. He misses that feeling of being close to someone.”  
    Cornelius sighed. Franny was, of course, right. Connecting with an inanimate object made sense given the circumstances. It just seemed a shame that Goob didn’t come to terms with that connection and move on to a true and honest friend, like himself.   
    Shrugging his shoulders in a manner that reflected he was giving up, Cornelius sat down with a huff in a chair next to his wife. He sat his elbow on the table and rested his chin in his palm, staring off at the wall across the room.  
    “Human emotions are complicated.” he said. Franny smiled and patted her hand against his arm. He was frustrated and understandably so. She agreed that Goob would probably be happy here. But she knew it would take a lot of trust for that man to be willing to live here.   
    “I mean, really.” Cornelius continued. “Memories especially. You look back on a specific event and think one thing happened but really something else was happening altogether. It’s like our mind creates the memories that we want to see, rather than exactly as they happened. You know, I remember experimenting with the memory scanner and there were times I watched as things happened that either I didn’t remember myself or else I had remembered a different way.”  
    “Really?” Franny asked.  
    “Yeah. Like one time I remembered showing a classmate in school a specific idea I had for an invention and I thought he was so interested and intrigued by it. I looked up that memory and it turns out he was showing signs of boredom listening to me. Boy, was I disappointed.”  
    They sat together in silence for a moment. Mrs. Robinsons drifted her eyes to the notes upon the table in front of them. There were plans for all sorts of inventions and ideas that her husband had. Just looking at them made her smile. He was always trying to improve the daily lives of people. Attempting to fix any problem they might have, no matter how small or seemingly insignificant. No wonder he was stuck on Goob.   
    She glanced at the clock on the wall and sighed quietly. It was getting late.  
    “Well at least you gave him the letter.” she said. “That will give him something to think about for now and only time will tell if he changes his mind.”   
    Cornelius didn’t respond. Frowning slightly, Franny turned her gaze from the clock to her husband. He was brooding with a strange expression. Tilting her head in wonder, she stared at him, suddenly concerned.  
    “What?” she asked.  
     Cornelius didn’t answer. He was too busy staring intently at the table. It appeared as though he were lost in thought. And indeed he was. For an idea had struck him rather oddly and he was very disturbed by it. Finally, after another moment of contemplation, he looked over at Franny hesitantly.   
    “Franny... What if I... built Doris differently..?”  
    “What?!” Franny blurted, completely taken aback.  
    “I’m sorry, I know...” Cornelius said, removing his hand away from his face. He crossed his arms and sat back in his chair, still staring intently at the wall. “It was a random thought. I must sound crazy.”  
    “It does sound crazy! It’s completely crazy! Why would you even consider that?!”  
    Cornelius paused, raising his hands in the air to figuratively steady his wife’s nerves.  
    “Well... Okay, just hear me out. I know what I said before but just listen. Let’s pretend I were to create Doris again. In the same image as she was before. And this is all figuratively speaking, of course.”  
    “It better be.” Franny warned, crossing her arms.  
    “Yes, yes. Now listen. If I were to create the Helping Hat now, given the fact that I have the memory of what she had become before, it only stands to reason that I would do everything in my power to not create her exactly the same. Correct?”  
    “Okay...”  
    “And really, it would be a paradox for her to exist exactly the same because she disappeared immediately once I said I would never invent her. So she would look the same and have the same abilities of movement and such, but her so called “mentality” would be different. So she would be completely harmless and Goob could still have a friend. Right?”  
    Franny blinked, trying to take in the information. She didn’t like the topic of conversation but so long as it was all figurative, she was fine with at least going along with it for now. She looked down at the floor, considering what Cornelius had said. Would that technically work?  
    “No...” she said eventually, bringing her eyes back to his level. “That wouldn’t work. Goob remembers her a specific way. Even if she looks and moves the same, he wouldn’t think it was her if she didn’t act the same way.”  
    A small hint of a smile tugged at the corner of Mr. Robinson’s lips. Franny squinted her eyes at him. She knew that suspicious expression.  
    “But she could act the same and still be completely harmless.”  
    “How?”  
    “Well...” Cornelius began, turning his head to look at his memory scanner in the far corner of the room currently tucked away underneath a lavender blanket. “We were talking about memories, correct? And the fact that we perceived them differently then how they truly were. What if I re-worked the memory scanner to extract the perceived memories rather than the true memories? I could take Goob’s memories of what he believed Doris was like and plug those into a new and revised edition of the Helping Hat. She could be exactly the same with her personality and abilities, but have her twisted greed for power removed.”  
    Franny looked from the memory scanner to Cornelius and back again.   
    “But the memories he has of her also involve watching her become power hungry. He watched her hate you and plot an entire plan on how to take revenge against you. If you plug those memories into her then her only understanding will be to plot another revenge. She’d come after you.”  
    Cornelius nodded his head.  
    “Yes. That’s true. If I put those memories in.”  
    “Huh?”  
    Mr. Robinson raised his hands to adjust his glasses as they had slid slightly down his nose during the conversation. “Last night Goob made an interesting comment to me. When he asked for me to build Doris he said “Maybe not exactly the way she was, but at least the good parts that I remember”. So what I could do is go through the memories that I extract and remove any parts that suggest she was plotting anything and just leave the bits that appear to be regular conversation or general personality. I could, in a way, leave the good parts that he remembers.”  
    Franny felt frozen in her chair. Would that really work..? The theory was certainly impressive... And he of all people would be the one to trust with that kind of delicate experiment... No, wait! This was all wrong! The way he was talking didn’t sound figurative at all... He couldn’t do that! What if something went wrong? What if the principle was correct but it was executed incorrectly and thus Doris returned exactly the same as before?  
    “And...” Cornelius continued, catching her frightful gaze. “I would add in another feature. A new feature. One that would promise that if anything went wrong, we could stop her without having to go through a large catastrophe like last time.”  
    “...What..?” Franny asked, unable to comment other than to simply ask a question.   
    “I could create a small device within her mainframe that could immediately shut her down with a simple press of a button should a time come where that was needed.”   
    Franny didn’t respond. She couldn’t respond. He was definitely not talking figuratively now. Nervously she placed her hand against the desk and tapped it lightly with her fingers. But it wasn’t his crazed idea that caused her to be nervous. What worried her the most was the fact that she didn’t want to admit that she thought the idea was brilliant. She refused to believe that this was the right answer and yet she couldn’t help but feel like it was worth trying. Perhaps it was the fact that she was married to a scientist that she felt all ridiculous ideas were worth attempting. Perhaps it was the fact that the Robinsons were naturally curious and the idea of failure didn’t bother them. Regardless of the reason, Mrs. Robinson sat in her chair looking dumbfounded and unable to answer. She played with her dress and chewed her lip. This was wrong. Goob deserved human contact, not an inanimate object. But she herself had said he was trapped in his own world for thirty years. Was he too far gone anyway? Was this the only way to offer him peace of mind?  
    “Franny, if I was careful, I think it could work.”  
    She looked at her husband with sad eyes. She didn’t want to doubt his ability to be careful but something in the back of her mind told her this wasn’t a good idea. If he really did re-invent Doris... would Goob be happy? She supposed he would be. It was, after all, what he asked for. And if Cornelius was successful then both of them would be put at ease. He wanted so desperately to help his old roommate. Perhaps this really was the best solution, even if it was a crazed one...  
    She lifted her hands and placed them gently onto his knee. Cornelius looked at her with a pitiful smile. One that reflected that he understood her concern but begged for her to agree with his idea. He couldn’t do it without her permission. He knew what he would be doing was risky, but he had to do it.  
    “Please... don’t forget about that new feature...”  
    Cornelius wrapped his arms around Franny and hugged her tightly.  
    “I wont.”


	5. Five

It had been three days since he had returned from the Robinson’s household. Three days since the rejection from his former roommate. Since then, Michael had struggled with an inner conflict between depression and anger. One moment he would be paralyzed in his bed staring at the ceiling feeling as though a great weight had been placed upon his chest, and the next he would be angrily gripping the bed frame counting all the ways he could make Lewis pay for not understanding. It was a terrible mixture of emotions to plague him for the mood swings were sudden and strong. And without someone there to talk to, his thoughts couldn’t rest and headaches were often a problem.   
    Currently, his mood was fixated on melancholy. The loss of Doris itself was a situation that caused him pain already. However, Cornelius’ disallowance of her return was a particularly stronger blow because it felt as though the inventor was refusing to fix what he had done in the first place. Goob was now sure (after many an hour of time travel related thoughts) that Cornelius had not actually woken him up after having gone back in time. And he thought for sure that his old roommate was being hypocritical in attempting friendship when he obviously didn’t care at all.  
    And now he felt dumb for having tried to get Cornelius to rebuild her. Of course he wasn’t going to, he should have known that. But now what was he to do? His eyes drifted to the nightstand next to his bed where he had lovingly left the bowler hat Cornelius had given him. It was a small comfort to have her there at first. Now it seemed more painful than anything.  
    Was he fooling himself with this object? She couldn’t move, she couldn’t speak. It wasn’t her, even if it might have been her frame. What comfort could it really bring? Goob shifted his legs to sit up on the edge of the bed and reached for the hat. He ran his fingers along the edges and inspected the inner leather band. Chewing the inside of his cheek, Michael breathed in heavily before moving his eyes to look at the box he had left on the floor. The unicorn binder Cornelius gave back to him was still laying inside of it.  
    Michael stared for a long time, his gaze sometimes drifting between the hat and the box. He scratched his head and played with his mustache in a manner that suggested he was deep in thought. Whatever it was, it appeared to bother him deeply for he soon was playing with his fingers nervously.  
    After a good ten minutes of anxious debating, Goob finally stood and lowered the hat very carefully into the box. He winced when he let go of it, unsure of his actions. Shifting his weight between his feet, he stared down at the box for another ten minutes, wringing his fingers together. Finally, he crouched down and closed his eyes as he pushed the box underneath his bed. What was the point in seeing an object that gave him so much pain? He couldn’t bring himself to throw it out but at least hiding it was better than nothing.  
    Standing up with a sigh, Michael raised his hands to his forehead and closed his eyes. His shoulders drooped and he stood for a long while before visibly beginning to shake from his sadness.  
    Knock, knock, knock.  
    Goob’s hands whipped away from his face.  
    Knock, knock, knock, knock, knock.  
    He spun around to face the window, poised to run. He didn’t need to look outside to see who it was. There was only one person it could possibly be and Michael’s clenching teeth was reflective of the emotion against who it was.  
    “Goob!”  
    There was no way in hell that scientist was going to make him come out now. It didn’t matter that the knocking was more incessant than last time. Nothing he could say was going to change what Michael thought about him. Goob relaxed his stance and instead of crouching he changed to crossing his arms and turned away from the window. He raised his head with closed eyes and refused to believe that Cornelius had anything good to say.  
    “Mike!” the inventor called, pounding on the door more rapidly than before. The change of name usage caused Goob to hesitate but still he did not come to the window.  
    “I’ll do it! I’ll re-build her!”  
    Michael’s eyes snapped open. What did he say? He spun on his heels and stared at the window in disbelief. No, he couldn’t possibly have said-  
    “Please come out. I can explain.”  
    Cornelius’ voice lowered in volume. He was no longer shouting for Goob’s attention, most likely now waiting for his old roommate to make an appearance, if he would at all.  
    Michael, meanwhile, forgot in an instant about all the anger he had previously felt. In a moment of pure desperation, he flung himself forward and clutched the windowsill, leaning his head outside.  
    The sight below was peculiar.  
    Cornelius stood on the porch steps looking up at Goob with tired eyes. The scientist looked disheveled as though he hadn’t slept in days. Soft purple bags hung under his eyes and even his clothes were wrinkled. It was strange to say the least for Goob had never seen his old roommate in such a manner and while his feelings for the man did not change to concern, it was still off-putting. They stared at each other for a moment. A smile spread upon the inventor’s face at Michael’s decision to come to the window. Goob, however, wasn’t so much happy at the sight of seeing Cornelius himself but rather to the reason why he was there.   
    “What?” Michael asked desperately with a worried expression etched in his eyes. He needed Lewis to repeat himself just in case he had only dreamt it.  
    “I’ll do it.” the inventor said. “I’ll do it right now if you want me to. Just let me in.”  
    Eyes widening in shock, Goob tore himself away from the window and ran for the door. He didn’t wait for Cornelius to explain for that didn’t matter in this moment. The inventor could explain later. Right now all that mattered was letting Lewis in so that he didn’t suddenly change his mind before he could get to the porch.   
    He nearly tripped on the staircase but finally arrived at the front door, which he flung open violently. Cornelius was waiting patiently on the other side. He looked more disheveled in person, which struck Michael oddly. Why did his old roommate look so exhausted?  
    Lewis grinned widely, despite the dazed air about him. But when Goob did not return the happy gesture, the scientist settled for a closed smile. He watched Goob carefully before peering inside. Tentatively he stepped forward and entered the building as Michael shuffled back in a manner that reflected he was afraid to let the inventor anywhere near him.   
    Cornelius looked around at the place he once called home. Whistling softly, he . nodded at how familiar everything seemed. From the wallpaper, to the flooring, and even the smell, he remembered it all. Although clearly age had not been kind to it. Dirt and dust littered every corner of the room. It looked to be a place where cockroaches no doubt scurried and he wondered how spooky the place must be at night. After a moment of staring, Cornelius’ face turned from fond recognition to worrisome concern when he realized that Michael was of course still living there. How any person could live in such a  terrible place was unsettling. The thought of his old roommate choosing to be isolated here rather than staying in the comfort of the Robinson’s home was disappointing. He turned his attention to Michael, who was standing awkwardly by the door, hands protectively clutching his fingers in a defensive manner. Pain struck Cornelius’ heart all at once from the sudden understanding of how deeply rooted the damage must be in his old roommate’s mind. He hadn’t understood before why Goob refused to leave this place and move on and yet in that moment he completely agreed with what Franny had said. Of course he wouldn’t want to live with them. He was beyond human interaction.     And as such, any prior second thoughts the inventor might have had about his plan suddenly disappeared. Franny was right to be concerned, but Cornelius felt he knew what he was doing. And seeing Michael before him now only confirmed it further. Rebuilding Doris was exactly what his friend needed. He couldn’t undo the damage done but he could at least stop it from getting any worse. And perhaps even allow Goob to forget his troubles.   
    To begin conversation, Cornelius felt it best not to comment on his old roommate’s current living quarters and instead started with:  
    “Long time no see.”  
    Michael didn’t respond. His mind was too infested on one specific topic to make small talk. He didn’t care about anything but the potential promise for Doris and he hoped against all hope that the inventor before him hadn’t simply lied just to get him to come out. He waited on baited breath for Cornelius to immediately discuss the idea and until that happened he refused to speak.  
    Lewis wasn’t a fool to Goob’s quiet demeanor. In fact the moment the joke escaped his lips he regretted making it. There was no point in beating around the bush. What he intended to do was a delicate subject but it needed to be jumped into right away or else nothing was going to get done.  
    “Mike, I’m going to be honest with you. I’ve spent the entire last three days building this but I don’t actually know if it will work. I have no way of comparing my work now to what I did then and until I’m completely finished with it we won’t know if I did it right. She may not turn out how you want and my theory on how she will exist in the first place may be incorrect. I’m not saying I’m not going to try my hardest, but I need you to understand that this may not work.”  
    Michael stared at the inventor with a pleading expression. Of course he understood that there was always a chance it wouldn’t work. But if Lewis did it once (albeit in a different time stream) then he could no doubt do it again, couldn’t he?  
    Goob nodded his head. Corenlius nodded back.  
    “Okay. Then to finish this I need just two more things. One, the hat I gave you from before...”  
    Michael spun around in order to immediately go and retrieve the hat from the box upstairs. He was too impatient to wait for what Cornelius’ second item was.  
    “...And two, the most important thing, is you.”  
    “Me?” Michael asked, stopping in his tracks. What did he have to do with rebuilding Doris? Wouldn’t Lewis just need to grab the hat and be gone until she was finished? Why did he need him?  
    “Yes. You.” Cornelius said. “You see, Mike. You remember Doris a very specific way whereas I do not. If I were to finish rebuilding her with no prior knowledge as to how you remember her then she wouldn’t be anything like how you want. Her programming will already be different because I intend to make sure that she does not become... well... corrupted. So her “personality”, as you will, may already be affected as it is. To make sure she’s as close as possible without any problems on the side, I need your memories.”  
    “My memories?” Goob asked, standing awkwardly near the stairs and feeling confused by the explanation.  
    “Yes. I updated the memory scanner to actually save the memories retrieved where I can then take them and plug them into the device that will become Doris. In order to finish her, I need your memories so that she can act and speak in the same manner as you remember. If you are alright with this, then I can go get the memory scanner from the car out front and we can get started.”  
    Michael hesitated. He stared at Cornelius with uneasiness and shuffled his weight between his feet. The idea of the inventor needing to perform a scientific procedure on him was suspicious and he wasn’t sure if he trusted him. He was, after all, still positive that Lewis had not gone back to wake him up. If that were true and the inventor had purposefully made it so that his life still ended up a mess, then what if the experiment with the memory scanner was just a ruse for malicious intent?  
    Cornelius sighed when he saw the look upon his old roommate’s face. Clearly the man did not trust him, despite all the efforts he was trying to make.  
    “Goob... If you want her back then this is the only way.”  
    Michael’s shoulders sank slightly and his eyelids drooped similarly. Regardless of the lack of trust, he had to do this. After a moment of staring at the floor he raised his head and nodded to the inventor.  
    Cornelius nodded back and smiled sadly.  
    “I’ll go get the memory scanner.”


	6. Six

“I need to explain a few things before we start.”  
    Cornelius stood in front of the dining room table where the memory scanner sat patiently waiting to be used. It looked nearly the same as before with just a few added wires here and there for the upgrade. The main difference was a small black metal box that was attached along the side. This was in fact the device that was going to save the false memories rather than just playing them on the screen. Lewis would later be able to take this block and (after heavy editing) input it inside Doris’ mainframe.  
    One would think changing a machine’s intended use would be difficult, but in reality altering the old science fair gadget for the purpose of saving false memories was quite easy for the scientist. Considering he had invented the machine itself at age twelve meant upgrading it thirty years later after a lifetime of increasing his scientific knowledge was a breeze. And even then, it was a fairly small upgrade anyway. Or would “downgrade” technically be a better word choice? It was, after all, saving the incorrect memories rather than the true ones.  
    Beside the table in a wooden chair sat Michael, whose arms were crossed awkwardly in his lap. He stared up at Cornelius with his large brown eyes, transfixed by the idea that Doris’ rebirth was so close at hand.  
    “Okay...” Goob said slowly, eyes drifting to the memory scanner.  
    “We discussed the approximate time for when you first met her. That’s great. Once I put these headphones on you, we’ll start there and just play through until we agree on a time to stop. You’ll be controlling the memories as they play so if there are scenes you wish to skip past, you have the ability to do so. That makes it easier on us to only get the parts with Doris in them. But there’s good news and bad news about this. The good news is... we don’t have to worry about grabbing memories that we don’t want. I can cut and strip them later so that she only receives what she needs. The bad news is, well, it’s going to put a strain on you.”  
    “What do you mean?” Michael asked, squinting his eyes suspiciously at the inventor.  
    Cornelius chewed his lip and glanced from the memory scanner and back to Goob.   
    “Well, when I first built the memory scanner, I did a lot of experimenting with it. I found that after only a few minutes of memory extraction, I began to get strong headaches. I thought perhaps it was just because I wasn’t use to it and of course I was young as well but even after experimenting with it in my later years I still experienced headaches if I used it too long. What I’m trying to say is we have a lot of memories to extract. You need to tell me when to stop because you’ll be the one wearing the headphones and the one feeling the start of the pain. This doesn’t have to be done all at once. We can always pick up where we left off at a later time. I don’t want to hurt you. Okay?”  
    Michael nodded. He understood completely, even if there was a small part of his mindset that was telling him that he wouldn’t care if he got a headache just so long as he could relive the memories of Doris.  
    “Alright. Well then let’s get started.” Cornelius said, lifting the headphones away from the table and slowly placing them over Goob’s ears. Michael adjusted them himself slightly as they began to slip down right away. He nodded to Lewis to show that he was ready before the inventor inputted the numbers necessary for the machine to work properly. Immediately the screen flickered to life.  
    Michael leaned forward in his chair, eyes widening in anticipation of what was about to play. He gripped the arm rests tightly and even seemed to be holding his breath.  
    Cornelius, meanwhile, scooted a nearby chair closer in order to sit beside the machine. He knew this might take a while. Besides the lengthy amount of time the experiment would take, however, and of course the fact that he would need to pay attention so that splitting the memories would be easier later, he was also curious as to what the memories were at all. What did Michael think was happening that entire time? How would Doris look through his view point? He had questioned why Michael had entrusted her in the first place those thirty years ago. Or should he say just two weeks ago? That’s right. For Goob, everything that happened was such a short time ago. No wonder the pain was so fresh for him.   
    The inventor rubbed his eyes and sighed. He had slept so poorly the last three days. He vaguely wondered if he would fall asleep watching the memory scanner but he told himself to try not to. Even if he could always re-watch the memories later while editing, he had to be sure that Goob wouldn’t faint from the use of the scanner.   
    The first memory began to play and the Robinson’s front door came into view. Immediately the words, “Robinson, you stink!” were heard which caused Michael to sheepishly flutter his eyes in Cornelius’ direction. The inventor did not turn his head to look back, however, and thus Goob continued to watch the screen embarrassingly.  
    His embarrassment faded when the memory showed himself turning to look up at the sound of beeping. Michael perked up at the sound and leaned forward in his chair further to watch as the screen finally revealed what they had been waiting for.  
    And there she was in all her glory. She appeared to glow with the sunlight shining behind her. Her silver legs were stretched to full length and she was offering her clawed hand to the screen.  
    A smile crept across Goob’s face as another chorus of beeping was heard. The ever-so familiar beeping that he had missed so dearly.  
  
    “i CaN hElP yOu...” the beeping appeared to translate.   
    Doris clutched Goob and he was pulled forward.  
    “In ruining the Robinson name?” Michael asked, following her as she floated away from the house.   
    “yEs. BuT tO bE aFfEcTiVe We NeEd A pLaN.”  
    “Ah, yes!” Goob answered, looking back to see if anyone had seen them. “Good idea! We shall make a plan... Hee hee...”   
    “i DoN’t KnOw ThE cItY. wHeRe Is A gOoD pLaCe To TaLk?”  
    Goob stopped walking and thought a moment. Doris turned to look at him, patiently waiting for a response.  
    “I know the perfect place.”  
  
    Cornelius turned to look at Michael. The inventor was slightly confused. So far the memories did not seem out of character for either of them. Perhaps the false memories would come later?   
    He snapped to attention as the memory scanner blinked to show Playtime Planet, a large circular building that looked quite childish. Goob and Doris were sitting in a booth and she was busy explaining her reasonings for wanting revenge against Cornelius. The inventor knew the basic story of what had happened at this meeting, and while he didn’t know what occurred during it word-for-word, he wondered if perhaps he had finally arrived at the first false memory. For the scene began to fade in and out and the image wasn’t very clear.   
  
    “...aNd So We ShOuLd... HiM.” the beeping translated. Doris slammed a silver leg into the table angrily.  
  
    What did she say? Cornelius squinted at the screen, then glanced back at Goob. Why had the memory appeared to skip?  
    Michael did not notice. He was transfixed to the screen. His mouth hung open slightly and his eyes were shining with emotion. There was no use questioning him now. He was too caught up in the memories to discuss them.  
    The inventor turned back to the screen. Was the skipping a mistake or simply part of the false memory? Either way, what had she intended to say? They should what him? Get him? Attack him?   
    ..Kill?  
      
    The screen showed Goob offering a roll of toilet paper. Doris responded with an image of one of the time machines. To which Michael retracted his hand and offered a piece of paper instead.  
    “pErFeCt.”  
    Doris lifted up from the opposite booth and floated towards the screen. She was suddenly out of sight but it was assumed she was resting upon Goob’s head.  
    “wE wIlL wOrK vErY wElL tOgEtHeR.”  
    Goob responded simply with an excited laugh.   
  
    Cornelius smiled. That would be a perfect memory to take right there. A small snippet of happiness in the both of them. With the proper editing, he could make it look as though they were simply spending the day together rather than plotting.   
    He yawned and stretched his shoulders. How much longer would he last without sleep? Turning, he suddenly realized it had been past ten minutes since he first started the machine. It was at about this time that he had started to get headaches from the scanner. How was Goob doing?  
    Michael’s expression had turned from desperation to concentration. He didn’t look in pain, but he was certainly not gawking like he was before.  
    “How are you holding up?” Cornelius asked, well aware that he was interrupting some memories that were still continuing to play.  
    “Fine.” Michael responded quickly, irritated that the inventor had interrupted. In reality, his head was starting to buzz. It wasn’t unbearable but there was definitely the beginning of something that could turn problematic if he continued for much longer. But he didn’t want to stop. Re-living the past was wonderful. Hearing those beautiful beeps, albeit not in reality, was refreshing and he didn’t want it to end.   
    “Okay... but don’t push it...” Cornelius warned, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. He yawned again, blinking his eyes forcefully in an attempt to stay awake.  
    The memories playing were actually quite nice. They were set before they had found the garage door open. Both of them were staked out a little ways from the house, ready for the infiltration. Goob and Doris were forced to kill some time after they had realized there was no way in during daylight hours. They decided to wait for night fall and until then they sat and talked.   
  
    “Having a partner makes this so much easier.” Goob stated gleefully, tapping his fingertips together.   
    Doris began to play with Goob’s hair in a distracted manner. It was from her instinctual need to clean and refresh a person’s looks that she began to nitpick Michael’s appearance. She was a Helping Hat, after all, and even if she resented what Cornelius had done to her, she couldn’t stop what she was programmed to do. Goob did not seem to notice, however. Instead he continued to talk.   
    “Partners in crime! Together we shall bring down the Robinson’s name and that stupid boy will see what it feels like to have your life stripped of meaning! It will be a day to remember!”  
    He laughed with a twisted grin and rubbed his hands together. Doris, meanwhile, moved on from his hair to his cape, beginning to brush it. Her movements suggested that either she hadn’t been listening or else was uninterested in Goob’s ramble.   
    Michael on the other hand finally realized what Doris was doing. He stopped grinning and turned to stare at her, watching her brush his cape with a strange expression. It started out as being uncomfortable and Goob raised his hands in a defensive manner but after a moment, Goob tilted his head and lowered his arms, simply letting her do what she wanted. The memory clouded slightly. Her movements changed from indifferent brushing to looking up at him with a curious stare. It was hard to judge how a hat could show curiosity, yet the memory somehow reflected the change in mood. Her brushing became slower and softer. She no longer cleaned with harsh dragging but rather with tender sweeps. He watched her with interest.  
  
    A small smile spread on Cornelius’ lips. His body relaxed in his chair. The false memory, shown by the sudden cloudiness of the image, may have been small but it was sweet and he finally understood why Goob felt that Doris hadn’t always intended to be cruel. Her programming, while purely forced and not out of true feeling, had instilled a sort of comfort in Goob. Her Helping Hat abilities had caused him to believe that she cared about him. No wonder he was so confused. The memory played that she was caring for him like a loved one yet in reality she would have done the same actions with anyone. After thirty years of no interaction with the outside world and feeling that he was unwanted, Michael of course attached to the first sign of comfort.  
    Cornelius blinked very slowly and his body started to slump. After a few minutes of dazed staring, the inventor’s eyes closed and he began to drift into much needed sleep.  
    Goob, meanwhile, had a very different reaction to the memory. His brain felt like it was pulsing against his skull yet he refused to remove the earphones. Tears had formed in his eyes at the sight of Doris brushing his cape, the memory of the comforting feeling still fresh in his mind. The corners of his mouth pulled upwards softly as he watched. He remembered the feeling of the tugging against his cape from that evening and how nice it was. At the time it had been strange and confusing but now he would give anything to feel that unexplainable feeling again.  
    The memories continued. From stealing the time machine, to the science fair, and next to the meeting where he tried to win over the corporate officials with the memory scanner. The meeting, of course, did not go over well.  
      
    “Doris! It’s all over... all our hopes and dreams dashed like so many pieces of a broken machine-y thing.”  
    Doris jutted a pink and grey binder into Goob’s arm, beeping.  
    “iT’s NoT oVeR. wE cAn StIL wIn ThIs.”  
    “You’re right! Success is still ours for the taking!”  
    Michael made a few adjustments to his list before putting the binder away and gathering the materials from the broken memory scanner.       
  
  
    Michael suddenly clenched his teeth as a shock of pain shot through his head. He blinked the pain away, determined to finish watching despite the fact that he was hardly half way though the memories.  
    Next he re-lived speaking to his younger self. It wasn’t a problem to watch this memory now but he remembered how he felt when he had been there in person. How strange it was to talk and listen to Little Goob. But the strange feeling passed quickly as more memories passed. The stick, the frog, the dinosaur. All of it was flying by.  
    Michael strained against the ear phones. His head was pounding with the scanner continuing to dig into his brain. The extraction was beginning to be more painful than what he could bear but he still refused to remove them. He squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his teeth, pressing his hands against the ear phones in an attempt to force himself to keep them on. But the pain didn’t go away, it only increased as more time passed. He opened his eyes, desperate to watch more memories. There was nothing more he wanted than to continuing looking at Doris but his eyes were beginning to become bloodshot. If he wasn’t careful he was going to really hurt himself.  
      
    “Nothing can stop us this time...” Goob grinned maliciously, carrying the box through the halls of the InventCo. building. “The future will finally be ripped from his hands!”  
    Doris shook in laughter atop Michael’s head. They walked together to the door of the meeting room. Before he opened the door, she lifted into the air. The image grew clouded as Doris began to adjust the sleeves of his attire so that they were even.  
    “Will you tell me what to say?” Goob asked.  
    “yOu KnOw WhAt To SaY nOw FrOm LaSt TiMe.”  
    “Not all of it...” He whined.  
    “i’Ll Be On YoUr HeAd ThIs TiMe. iF yOu BlAnK i’Ll Be HeRe.”   
  
    Goob’s eyes widened as he knew what memory was coming next. Soon, Lewis would appear in his time machine and Doris’ true intentions would be revealed. Frightened of seeing that reality, Michael began to instinctively panic, which caused his head to worsen with the affects of the scanner. He lunged out in an attempt to touch the screen but the increased activity of his nervous system caused his body to finally break. His eyes rolled back and he fell forward out of his chair, collapsing onto the floor. The ear phones ripped away from his head and swung from the edge of the table.  
    The sudden crash caused Cornelius to bolt awake, looking around in shock. Clutching the arm rests of his chair, the inventor looking around frantically before seeing Goob on the floor, completely passed out.  
    “Goob!” Lewis cried, rushing to the floor to see if his old roommate was okay. After checking for vital signs, it appeared that Michael was still breathing.  
    “Oh, thank goodness.” he sighed, looking up at the memory scanner. He turned off the machine and pitifully looked down at the man lying on the floor.  
    He regretted having fallen asleep. How long did Goob continue watching the memories? Cornelius glanced at his watch and gawked at the time.  
    “Mike, no, what have you done!?” he asked, suddenly worried that the scanner might have permanently damaged his friend. Could it even do that? He had no idea. He had never tested the theory and never intended to.  
    A moan drifted up from the floor. Cornelius immediately dropped to the ground.   
    “Mike? Mike?!”  
    Goob’s eyes fluttered a moment before squeezing shut. He swung an arm up to his face before weakly looking up at the inventor.  
    “Are you okay? Can you hear me?”  
    A small nod confirmed that he was at least responsive. Cornelius sighed in relief.  
    “Come on, let’s get you up.”  
    With great difficulty, Lewis was able to half-drag, half-pull, Goob up the stairs to his room. Michael responded only with small one-worded answers or else not at all when Cornelius questioned him. It was only until Goob was lying on his bed that his body felt well enough to respond accurately.  
    “You’re sure you’re okay?” Cornelius asked, crouching by the bed and staring at his old roommate with concern. He was terrified of having hurt him.  
    “I... I’m so tired...” Michael muttered. His head was still pounding.  
    “Yes, maybe you should get some rest.” Cornelius said. “Sleep would do you some good. Just... try to get some sleep and I’ll be right back, okay?”  
    Goob didn’t respond. Instead he turned his head the other way in a huff and sighed painfully.  
    Cornelius backed out of the room slowly, a panicked expression on his face. He shut the door and ran downstairs. Immediately he brought out a device from his pocket. Flipping it open he set it down on the floor and pressed a small red button on it. The inventor put a worried hand to his chin as the device made a small beeping sound before finally a hologram of Franny appeared.  
    “Well? How did it go?” Franny asked cheerfully. She saw the expression on Cornelius’ face and her smile faded instantaneously. “What happened?”   
    “Franny, I need your help as fast as you can.”  
    “What happened?” she repeated, this time more demanding.   
    “I need you to get the Med-Pack and come over here as quickly as possible.”  
    “What?! Is he okay?”  
    “I don’t know for sure. He was under the memory scanner for over an hour. I didn’t mean to let him go for that long but I fell asleep and now-”  
    “What do you mean you fell asleep?! Cornelius!”   
    The inventor sighed frustratingly and clenched his fists as his own stupidity.  
    “I know, I know, it was bad! But I need you to come quickly! If there’s any damage I need to fix it sooner rather than later! I have the car so you’ll need to use a different vehicle. Just... come as fast as you can, alright? I’ll explain everything in more detail when you get here.”   
    Franny stared with worry in her eyes. She looked hurt but after a moment of registering what Cornelius had said, she nodded and hung up, adding that she would be there in less than ten minutes.   
    The device blinked and the hologram disappeared. Cornelius sighed and picked up the tiny machine and put it back in his pocket. He closed his eyes and rubbed his temples. Shaking his head, he looked up at the ceiling.   
    “I’m a fool...”


	7. Seven

“He’s okay.”  
    Cornelius pulled the miniature neuroimaging device away from Michael’s head. Tucking it back into a red box that sat on the floor beside him, the inventor began to dig through the rest of the MedPack to see if there was anything else that might help.  
    “Are you sure?” Franny asked. She stood beside her husband with a worried hand resting against her lips. She stared at Goob’s unconscious body on the bed, concerned that while the Neuro-Band might have cleared any suspicion of permanent damage, Michael might still be in pain once he awakened.  
    “Well, there’s no indication that there will be any problems. He just pushed himself too far and his mind needs time to catch up. It would be like if someone punched you in the stomach and you felt winded for a while. I wouldn’t be surprised if he slept for a whole day.”  
    Franny nodded and shook her head.   
    “You both pushed yourself too hard.”   
    Cornelius nodded sheepishly and shrugged. He wasn’t going to argue with her. She was right, per usual.   
    He closed the MedPack and picked it up from the floor. Moving towards the door, Franny followed him downstairs. Together they sat at the dining room table where the memory scanner still laid. Cornelius picked up the earphones so that they weren’t hanging off the edge while Franny sighed.   
    “Cornelius...” Franny began, playing with her skirt nervously. “Are you sure about still doing this?”  
    The inventor didn’t respond. He turned to glance at her, already knowing what she was going to say.   
    “I mean...” she continued. “I know you explained it and it all made sense at the time... but after what just happened, are you sure it’s still a good idea? Don’t you think his reaction was dangerous?”  
    Cornelius swallowed, not wanting to admit that Franny’s suggestion to stop was tempting.   
    “His desperation is going to the point of hurting himself.” Franny said. “At this rate, what will happen if rebuilding Doris doesn’t work? Will he react even worse?”  
    “I don’t know.” he replied, resting his elbows against his knees and putting his hands on his chin. They shared silence for a moment, Franny trying to think of a solution that would work best for both of them while Cornelius tried his best not to think of giving up.  
    A thought struck Franny oddly. A thought that she was afraid to suggest out loud. Perhaps... well, would that work? She glanced up at Cornelius hesitantly as if he could read her thoughts. She had to admit that it was a plausible theory but the real problem was whether or not Cornelius would go along with it. She had a feeling he wouldn’t like it.  
    “Maybe...” Franny piped up after a minute or so. She paused, wanting to form her words carefully. “Maybe if I talked to him myself he would change his mind...”  
    “What?” Cornelius asked, finding the idea rather absurd. He lifted his head away from his hands in order to stare at her with a puzzled expression.  
    “Well, I mean, maybe I could convince him to give up on the idea and come stay with us.”  
    “I already tried that.” Cornelius retorted, somewhat irked that she was suggesting that Goob would listen to her and not himself.   
    “I know you did.” Franny said, raising her hands slightly to show that she meant no harm. She should have known he would react this way but she had already brought it up so there was nothing else to do but to finish her thought process.   
    “I just wonder if maybe talking to someone else might help. He has a lot of built up rage against you, so it’s no wonder that he wouldn’t listen to you. But he’s never talked with me before and plus I... well, I can be a little more... comforting.”  
    Cornelius blinked, then shook his head with an irritated air.   
    “No, that won’t work.” he responded stubbornly. Was she seriously suggesting that she could help Goob better than he could? The very idea struck him angrily. He refused to believe that, even if her suggestion was a smart approach. Cornelius wanted to be the one to fix Michael’s situation since he had been the one to hurt it in the first place, not anyone else. Having someone else help him felt like failure and the inventor was well known for his wanting to never give up. Suddenly the temptation to stop disappeared and he was driven by a desire to prove Franny wrong. She had to be wrong. If she was right, then all his hard work will have been for nothing.   
    Franny sensed this and fully expected him to turn down the idea. But still she felt that she was more right than ever before. This was a touchy subject for her husband and she knew that he might not be thinking right simply because it meant so much to him. An outsider’s perspective would be more helpful than ever yet he was going to refuse that help due to the fact that he would feel proud if he did it himself.  
    “Cornelius, this isn’t a matter of pride.” Franny said, reaching out to touch his knee. “I know you want so badly to help him, to help yourself, but your inventions can’t always help everyone. Sometimes science isn’t the answer.”  
    “No, I need to do this.” Cornelius said, standing up from the chair. “Even if it doesn’t work I need to know that I tried. That I didn’t just give up and walk away. It’s not about pride. It’s about helping a friend. I did this, even if I didn’t mean to, and I need to know that I did everything in my power to try and fix it.”   
    Franny gave him a hurt expression. She sank into her seat, feeling defeated. There was nothing she could say that would change his mind. Playing with her fingers worriedly, she bit her lip and looked up at her husband pitifully. He was being just as stubborn as Michael and he just didn’t see it.  
    “I brought everything I needed with me in the car.” Cornelius said, looking at the memory scanner. He voice was steady but there was an underline of threat. “I’m going to edit the memories and finish Doris right here.”  
    Franny stood up in alarm.  
    “Honey, you haven’t slept in a long time. I know you want to finish this as soon as possible but it’s already going to take a while to finish this. I don’t have to know what you’re doing to know that it’s delicate work. Perhaps you should continue when you’re feeling refreshed.”  
    “No, Franny, I have to finish this!” Cornelius barked, throwing his hands up in frustration.  
    Mrs. Robinson, startled, took a step back at her husband’s sudden outburst. Cornelius saw the hurt expression on her face and immediately regretted losing his temper.  
    “I... I’m sorry...” he said, lowering his arms and stepping forward to take her hands in his. “I just... this is so important. I need to do what’s best for him. And what kind of scientist would I be to not make something that could help?”  
    Franny stared at him in disgust and shook her head. She pulled her hands away.   
    “You’re making a mistake. This is not what’s best for him. The theory was good but the execution is poor. He’s too far gone for scientific help. It’s human contact that he needs. You do what you want, but let me be the first to say I told you so when your experiment fails.”  
    She turned on her heel and marched towards the front door. Cornelius immediately ran after her.  
    “Franny, wait!” he called but it was no use. She slammed the door in his face and left to return to the Robinson’s household.  
    The inventor stood staring at the floor in a defeated manner. Great. He hadn’t meant to start a fight.   
    Realizing he had wrongfully lost his temper, Cornelius sighed and brought his hands to his face, rubbing his eyes. He shouldn’t have yelled like that. Yet despite his outburst, why couldn’t Franny see that what he was doing was right? He meant no harm by what he was doing. Quite the opposite, actually. And Goob would most certainly benefit from seeing Doris again. Franny wasn’t there to see his reaction to the memory scanner. Sure, that had ended badly, but that was only because he himself had fallen asleep. That was a mistake and shouldn’t have happened. Franny was overreacting to one small slip-up. If she had seen how happy he looked watching those memories than surely she would agree with him that rebuilding Doris was the right thing to do.   
    After a minute or two of gathering himself, Cornelius opened the door to retrieve the items he needed to finish Doris. He could solve the fight between he and Franny later. Right now, all he could do was keep moving forward with the project at hand.


	8. Eight

Sleep, after an exhausting day of work, is refreshing. As a matter of fact, sleep in general is refreshing regardless of the amount of exhaustion one has built up during the daylight hours. It calms the mind and prepares it for the next day’s activity. But there’s nothing more refreshing than waking up after a particularly hard day. Or in this case, a particularly hard set of years. For Michael, sleep did not come often. His mind was too riddled with nightmares from his childhood as well as the newly added night sweats from imagining life without Doris. It had been a very long time since he had felt that refreshing feeling of a long rest. These days, when sleep finally did come, he was shaken awake countless times throughout the night and could never find peace.  
    It was with this sad fact in mind that when the memory scanner caused his mind to shut down and Goob was thrown into an unconscious state, he was thrown quite strongly. For not only did his mind need to heal from the over-exertion of Cornelius’ experiment, but it also needed time to recover from the build-up of damage caused by Michael’s inability to stay asleep. With the forced shut down of his mind, Michael was able to truly and honestly rest without interruption from his thoughts. And he remained in this paralyzing state for two straight days.  
    On the morning of the second day, after 53 hours of uninterrupted rest, Goob finally awoke. And while two days of sleep might not have healed his mind completely against all those years of troubling nights, the feeling that flowed through him was like a powerful drug easing him back into reality. Slowly opening his eyes, Michael dazed out across the room with a bleary expression. His body was heavy and the more he thought  about it the more he felt that he could sink deeper and deeper into the mattress. As his sight adjusted and he began to see more clearly, he thought back to what he last remembered. Immediately the memory of Cornelius with the memory scanner flooded back to him and he cringed. Interestingly enough, however, he couldn’t tell if he had instinctively cringed at the thought of “that boy” or the memory experiment. Regardless of his true intention, Michael closed his eyes to right himself. He didn’t feel any pain but then again he hadn’t moved yet. Would sitting up hurt?   
    He looked down at himself. Somehow his cape had been removed from around his neck and was laying across him like a regular blanket. He had never removed it before and the thought that someone else might have done so unnerved him. Especially at the thought of who might have done so...  
    Sitting up, Goob lifted the material and swooped it over his head, feeling more comfortable with it on. Twisting his head back and forth, he surveyed whether or not he could feel any pain. His brain felt heavier than usual but that hardly seemed unnatural. After all, not only had he undergone a traumatic experience but he had no doubt slept for a long time too. He wasn’t sure on exactly how long he had been asleep but judging by how good it felt to stretch his arms and legs, he was sure it was longer than the average 4 that he had been used to.  
    Standing, Michael was surprised by the sudden unbalance of his feet. He had tried to reach out for the door but stumbled slightly. Righting himself with a hand against the nearby desk, Goob shook his head and continued. Perhaps he had stood up too fast. Moving carefully, he made his way to the top of the stairs and immediately hesitated.  
    For some reason, something didn’t seem right. He wasn’t sure on what exactly, but something was telling him to halt. Looking around the corridor he tried to pinpoint anything suspicious. His shoulders lifted and his body began to shift into a slight crouch. Defensively, he raised his hands and curled his fingers. What was wrong?  
    beeeepeeriiiidoobeep  
    Goob snapped to attention. His eyes went wide and he frantically looked around the room. He knew that sound! He would know it anywhere! But where had the sound come from?! There was no doubt about it, though. That was Doris!  
    Pushing off of the stairway banister to propel himself faster down the stairs, Goob suddenly forgot about the suspicious feeling he had had. He was frantic now, desperate to get to the first level in order to see where the sound had come from. He nearly tripped the last few steps as he flung himself downward. When he finally made it at last, the sight of what appeared before him in the dining room caused him to immediately stop in his tracks.  
    A completely bewildered and shocked Cornelius Robinson sat twisted in his chair staring at him. Clearly the inventor hadn’t realized Michael was awake and the sudden crash of feet upon the stairs had startled him. But it wasn’t the inventor that Michael was staring at. Hovering just a few inches above the table was a bowler hat with a very familiar lit camera lens upon the hat band. It was a moment of silence for all of them. Goob’s mouth hung agape at the wonder of what was before him. Cornelius, still trying to grasp the fact that Michael was conscious and standing before him, clutched the screwdriver that was in his hand nervously. And Doris, whom although did not seem to give off any indication that she knew what was happening, did not chirp out again and merely observed the situation.  
    Finally, after a few more moments of stunned silence, Cornelius frantically reached forward with the screwdriver to shut Doris down. Goob’s expression turned to outrage and stepped forward with a reaching hand to shout, “NO!!”  
    The bowler hat dropped to the table with a soft thud and the green light within the lens faded.  
    Michael clenched his teeth and went to grab at the man beside him. He wanted terribly to squeeze the cloth of that lab coat and hiss in his face over what he had done to Doris and yet he couldn’t bring himself to touch him. Instead, he twisted his hands into fists and shook them near his own chest.  
    “What did you do?!” he demanded, misunderstanding the situation and jumping to conclusions that the inventor was refusing to let him see her.   
    Cornelius, completely understanding why Goob was reacting so fiercely, dropped the screwdriver to the floor and raised his hands palm-forward to show that he hadn’t meant any harm.   
    “Goob! Hold on! Wait! You don’t understand! I didn’t know you were awake. She’s okay. I can always turn her back on but I can’t let her see you until I’ve explained a few things to you first.”  
    Michael curled his hands towards his sides but his expression of mistrust still laid upon his face. He said nothing, waiting for his old roommate to explain.  
    Cornelius paused, staring at his friend with concern.  
    “Goob, how-”  
    Michael sneered.  
    “Mike... How long have you been awake?”   
    Cornelius watched as Goob’s expression turned to suspicion. What did that have to do with anything?  
    “Not very long.”  
    The inventor nodded.  
    “You’ve been asleep for two days.”  
    Michael shifted uncomfortably, blinking. Two days? He couldn’t fathom having slept that long. Cornelius had no reason to lie about that but somehow it seemed absurd. Pausing to raise his hands back up nervously to his chest, he played with his fingers absentmindedly and tried to consider if he felt like he had slept that long.  
    “Maybe you should sit down.” Cornelius added, waving a hand in the direction of the chair beside him. “We need to talk.”  
    Goob snuck into the chair and pulled his feet in childishly. Continuing to play with his fingers, he stared at the bowler hat on the table. Suddenly itching to touch it, he tried his best to calm his desire and focus on what the inventor was trying to tell him. Despite his intention to listen, however, his eyes remained on the hat.  
    “Michael,” started Cornelius, who wasn’t bothered by Goob’s distracted appearance. It was perfectly normal, given the circumstance, as to why his friend was staring at Doris. “Are you feeling okay? What is the last thing you remember?”  
    “I’m fine.” Michael responded automatically, wanting to get the formalities over with so that he could finally be reunited with her again.  
    “No, Mike, really. I need to know that you’re okay. I need to make sure the memory scanner didn’t harm you.”  
    “I remember everything.” Michael said, an undertone of threat creeping out from the sentence. In all reality, he didn’t remember anything past having fallen out of his chair from exertion. Had he known that he had let his former roommate hold him up and half-carry him up the stairs into bed he no doubt would have spat in disgust.   
    Cornelius did not question Goob’s memory but knew it was a lie. It was better to let the comment slide rather than to explain what happened and so he continued past the subject and asked:  
    “Well do you mind if I check you with this to make sure for certain?” He reached down to a bag that sat nearby on the floor and pulled out the ring-shaped neuroimaging device he had used from before.  
    Goob glanced briefly at it before returning his gaze to Doris. He recognized it immediately for he remembered hearing about it on the radio when Cornelius had first invented it. The Neurowave was created for medical advancement and was the first “mini-MRI” machine to ever exist. He nodded to show that he understood what Cornelius wanted to do but refused to offer any assistance in turning to look his way.  
    The inventor nodded back and placed the Neurowave onto his friend’s head, not needing to adjust the size since Michael was the last person he had used it on. He made sure the scanner was placed correctly against his forehead and then pressed a few buttons on it. Needing to wait only a few seconds, Cornelius waited for the small “ping!” before removing it and checking the screen for any issues.  
    Goob, meanwhile, couldn’t stand it any longer. It had been too long since he had been with her. And while he had had plenty of time to feel the hat in the past few days, it never felt the same without her core. Without the metal attachment and the camera lens that Cornelius had added, it had simply been a hat and nothing more. But not now. Now, she was herself again, or at least presumably so. He hadn’t of course seen any real proof that it was the same Doris as before but ignoring that fact, Michael simply had to feel his fingers against the brim yet again. Reaching out, he only had time to barely graze the threading before Cornelius snapped at him.  
    “Wait! Don’t touch it.”  
    Michael retracted his hand and glared at Cornelius for referring to her as “it”.  
    “Your scans look fine.” the inventor sighed in relief and placed the neuroimaging device back in the bag before returning to the task at hand. “Now. Doris. Yes. As you can see, I’ve finished building her. She has all the same sounds, functions, and movements, as before. But you have to remember one very important thing, Mike: She doesn’t have all the same memories that you do.”   
    The inventor paused, staring at his friend with intent. He had to be sure that Michael understood completely. He waited for the silence to sink in. It took a while for Goob to realize he had stopped talking and he glanced at the inventor’s direction to see why he hadn’t continued.   
    “Are you listening to me?” Cornelius asked. “Because this is important. If you start bringing up memories that she doesn’t have she’ll be confused. And I tried my best to re-create her without any hostile intention but I can’t imagine I would have done that the first time either. I don’t know what would happen if you start to create a feeling of ill-intent towards me again and as such... I’ve created a precaution.”  
    Cornelius reached into his pocket and brought forth a small rectangular box of silver metal with an antenna poking out of the top. On one of the larger sides of the box was a single red button. Goob stared at it nervously, suddenly anxious over what the device would do. He glanced at Doris hesitantly, sure that the button, if pressed, would do something he wouldn’t want.  
    “This is a self-destruct button.”  
    Michael’s eyes widened and he instinctively leaned away from the device, not wanting anything to do with it.  
    “One press of this button, and she’ll shut down immediately. And Mike, if you press this button, that’s it. No take-backs, no re-trying. If you press this button, she’ll be gone for good and I won’t ever try to re-build her again.”  
    “It won’t come to that.” Goob spat.  
    “I surely hope not. But... I just don’t know what to expect and neither do you. So I suggest keeping this close but not in an area where she could find it. That way she doesn’t question what it is and you don’t have to worry about it unless for some reason the worst happens.”  
    Michael was silent, staring at the device like it was a hideous insect. He felt uncomfortable just thinking about what the device did, let alone looking at it, so he shifted his vision back to Doris on the table. His expression relaxed and he dreamily thought of how wonderful it had been to hear her voice again just minutes before. There was no need to have a device like that. Cornelius was being overly paranoid. But forget about it. Who cares? The only thing that mattered was what was before him now. He clutched the arm rests of the chair impatiently.  
    Cornelius noticed his old roommate’s mood and decided it was best to finally do what he had originally intended in the first place.   
    “I’ll put the control in the front hall sideboard drawer on my way out. Otherwise... I think you know what to do.” he stood up from the chair and picked up the screwdriver, setting it on the table. He stared down at Michael’s desperate face and couldn’t help but let a smile spread onto his lips. This was it. This was the moment they both had been waiting for. Cornelius Robinson could finally walk away knowing he had fixed what he had done to his friend. And Goob could finally be happy again.  
    Reaching forward, Cornelius placed a hand against Michael’s shoulder and squeezed it.  
    “Keep moving forward, okay?”  
    Goob winced at the phrase as well as the touch but his quick-to-anger response changed to that of understanding almost immediately. He turned his head to look up at his old roommate with soft eyes and stared at him. It was the first time he had ever looked at him with appreciation rather than scorn and it suddenly felt very strange to say goodbye. But it was too awkward to say anything about it now. Now was too late to make up for anything that had happened between them before. Still, the moment needed something to make the mood feel lighter.  
    “Thank you, Lewis.” Goob said in full honesty.  
    “My pleasure, Mike.” Cornelius smiled again before removing his hand and walking out of the room, knowing full well this might be the true last time they would ever see each other.  
    Michael let the moment hang for a moment. Waiting patiently to hear the front door open and close, he sighed. When Cornelius was most certainly gone, Goob then looked at the hat before him. Excitedly he reached for her and pulled her close to his chest. Finally, finally, after all this time! All those lonely nights were over now and he could finally have her back. Someone to talk to, someone to live with, someone to fill that empty void he felt deep inside.  
    He turned the hat over and grabbed the screwdriver. With a quick twist, he twisted the tab that sat in the middle of the metal core. No sooner had he turned it did the hat slowly lift from his hand. Rising to just in front of his face, Goob watched as the green light within the camera lens slowly came to life. With baited breath he waited for a response. A beep, a chirp, anything to let him know that she could see him.  
    And for a moment, nothing happened. Perhaps it took a while for the gears in her  make-up to process or perhaps the lens needed to adjust its settings. Regardless, it was a full fifteen seconds before the hat suddenly sprang to life. It hopped in the air to above Michael’s head and immediately uncoiled a metal claw to fix his hair which had been disheveled from sleeping.  
    An uncontrollable smile escaped from Goob’s lips and he looked up at her with nothing but joy in his eyes.  
    Brrrreeeepd!  
    Goob grinned from ear to ear.


	9. Nine

171.37.23.458h/m/s/ms  
    One week since startup.   
    Beginning login process.  
    Current state: Confusion  
      
    I am unsure of my surroundings. I thought perhaps after a week of acclimating to this environment that things would get better but I am still just as confused as before. Unhappiness is not the word I would use to describe the situation, no, in fact I have logged and stored so many memories of joy that it would be impossible for me to say I am unhappy. I have enjoyed my time here thus far with the tall one. He has proven to be useful in learning my surroundings and keeping me company.   
    Yet, a feeling of uneasiness remains underneath this cloud of delight. What am I feeling, exactly? I have tried a few times to pull an explanation from the tall one but he shied away from the subject each time. His reaction of shutting me out seemed out of character for him. From the few memories I have, he never stopped talking. So what would make him so uncomfortable that he would refuse to speak to me?  
    And on the subject of memories, why do I have such clouded ones? Bits and pieces of faded memories that I cannot explain nor comprehend. I have been told that I was damaged and required maintenance which does give a plausible theory to my scattered thoughts and unusual processing but still I hesitate to accept this truth.  
    Most of the things I remember are of pleasure. Whether it be sitting in a blue and pink booth watching the tall one drink or else brushing his cape. And these memories are nice and confirm that my feelings of comfort in him are correctly placed but the memories also cut off at inopportune moments or else dissipate slowly as though my hardware were damaged and could not remember correctly. This unfortunate discovery of my tainted programming certainly suggests that I was in fact damaged as the tall one states and definitely needed maintenance.  
    However...  
    I have one memory that throws a wrench in the entire “Amnesia” hypothesis.  
    My first complete memory in between the damaged ones and the true complete series that I have now is strange and altogether... suspicious.  
    The memory starts with my being on a table with a man I’ve never seen before. He is dressed in white, blue, and red and has strange blonde hair. Glasses. He appears to be holding a tool. A grin in my direction. I only have a chance to say, “HeLpInG hAt D0R-15 pRoGrAm StArT”, as my programming insisted I say before suddenly the tall one appears. He looks, in a word, distressed. A mixture of panic and joy. Without delay he rushes towards me and suddenly the blonde one uses the tool to shut me down. My computing is just slow enough that I watch as the tall one screams at the other, “What did you do?!”  before everything goes black.  
    What does that suggest? Based on conductive reasoning I can only conclude that the blonde man is the one who performed the maintenance on my damaged sphere. After all, there is no chance that the tall one has the mental capacity to understand my software. Yet why did the tall one shout at the man who fixed me? Did he not do a proper job? And if not, how could the tall one tell immediately just from looking at me? Do I look different now? Has my structure changed that dramatically?   
    I have asked the tall one about the blonde man in my mental storage and it was the first time he refused to give me a true answer. He stammered and gave off clues that he was covering something up. He fidgeted and avoided eye contact with my lens. And whenever we went out (which has only been twice) I pointed out many advertisements that had his face, but whenever I asked, “WhO iS tHaT?” the tall one would simply respond, “No one important.” I cornered him once and tried to frustratingly explain that I have a clear memory of seeing him and that I needed to know the identity of him just to have closure of the strange and scattered thoughts that I have. I was so confused as it were that having just one explanation from the past would help me move on from it yet still he avoided the question.  
    My confusion of prior events has turned to frustration and I have found myself irritable all day. I have guilt over treating the tall one poorly but at the same time I can’t help but feel that my need for closure is in the right. He clearly has the answers I need yet is either too stupid or too afraid to tell me. Which just leads me to more questions. Why would he need to feel afraid to tell me? He tells me everything else that relates to his inner thoughts. His feelings, his joys, his angers, and his ambitions. Why hide something related to me, which he clearly shows admiration for? If he cared about me as much as he claims then it should be an obvious conclusion to tell me what I need to know.  
    I may lose my mind if I am able to use that expression in a mechanical sense.  
    If I don’t get the answers I seek I may have to turn to a more extreme measure to extract the information that I want. And while it pains me to look over at him now as he sleeps peacefully in his bed to plot against him I cannot help it. My feelings of desperation to who I am and what happened to me before this week are stronger than the comfort of being with him. I cannot be happy living out a life of being his friend unless I know who I am first.  
    It will take me a while to strategize what exactly to do. Perhaps two more days of hard thinking. Regardless of what happens, I may have to use force. I hate to use it against him but if I am pushed to that point I will do it.   
    My first plan of action is to find that blonde haired man. Surely he would give me an explanation. At the very least I could figure out who he is so that I could draw my own conclusions from there.  
    I am sorry, tall one.  
    I am sorry, Michael.  
  
    171.40.56.385h/m/s/ms  
    One week since startup.   
    Ending login process.  
    Ending state: Guilt


	10. Ten

The week of Doris’ return was undoubtedly the happiest Michael had ever been in his entire life. While he had been thrilled during the days when she had been beside him before, that passion was different. The source of that energy had been anger whereas now it was pure elation. With no plans of enacting revenge against his old roommate, Michael was able to focus on himself and on the emotions that he had left buried beneath the brooding hatred he let stew for so long.   
    At first, Goob focused on nothing more than the buried emotion of joy and ignored the more difficult questions of life. The “What now?” factor didn’t worry him for all he wanted was to spend time with Doris. He was blind in his own ignorant bliss and didn’t concern himself with worry of potential happenings such as Doris’ discovering of the truth. To him, it didn’t matter what came next for everything was good so long as she was with him. The feeling that flowed through him was an incredible amount of happiness. Happiness that he had never felt before and while it wouldn’t last forever, he refused to pay attention to the real world. This unobservant behavior worked perfectly throughout all the talking, playing, and relaxing that they did, at least for a few days. He would talk to her as though she were the last being on earth, which, in a way, she was, for Goob had never considered living or socializing with other people, especially after being isolated for so long. He was truly in his own wonderland.   
    Michael was happy. And it was the best feeling in the entire world. He could breathe without sighing in disgust over Lewis’ existence and, for once, he could sleep without tossing and turning all throughout the night. Doris gave him a reason to smile and his mind was clear of all anger that he had previously held so tightly.   
    After a few days, however, Michael’s dream world began to crack. And it caused him to face reality of that “What now?” factor. The emotions he had tried to drown out with euphoria bubbled to the surface and he experienced concern, worry, doubt, guilt, and most importantly, fear. While Cornelius had certainly been very careful to have stripped Doris of her corruptive ways, the accidental installation of her first recorded memory caused a rift to begin between she and Goob. He stumbled when she first asked about the blonde-haired man in her past. Passing it off as nothing more than an accident, Michael thought nothing of it and continued to pretend everything was fine. But after the second or third time that she stressed the importance of discovering who the man was, Michael’s heart began to beat with worry. Why did it matter? He thought. There was no reason for her to know. Why couldn’t she simply be happy with the life she lived now with him? Did their friendship mean nothing? Was she faking it the entire time?   
    More questions appeared when he thought about what might be going through her robotic mind. Doris had, after all, never properly explained where she had gotten the memory of the blonde haired man from. She simply stated she knew what he looked like and wanted to know who he was. What concerned Michael the most was wondering what memory she had gotten Cornelius from. Was it a good memory or a bad memory? If it was one where she could remember feeling hatred towards him then it would be possible that she could be lying to Michael and trying to get information out of him just to plot another revenge. If it was a good memory then he could always pretend that Cornelius was simply the man who built her and had no emotional attachment to her. And while it was true that Michael could still fall back on telling her the truth (apart from the revenge plotting tactics), it would be too suspicious to suddenly come up with a simple sounding story after having hesitated three times to her questions. There was no way Doris was going to accept “That man was the one who created you, nothing more.” She was suspicious from the start and Michael didn’t have the nerve to ask her which memory Cornelius was coming from.   
    At the moment, Doris wasn’t speaking with him. She had claimed to have trouble processing the current time and believed it to be a leftover malfunction from when she had been damaged. She said she needed time alone to quietly update her own software and to restart a few systems. Michael knew it was a lie but had lied right back saying he understood and allowed her to float away into another room of the building.   
    And so it was with this confusing rift between Doris and himself that Goob sat on his bed, trying to understand what he was feeling. That strong sense of happiness he had felt before was beginning to dwindle and he was unsure how to fix the situation. He couldn’t say anything to her. There was no excuse that he could think of. He wasn’t smart enough to think on his feet nor come up with a clever story to explain the strange man in her memory.   
    If only I still had a science geek for a roommate... he thought, a corner of his lip lifting into a smirk before quickly disappearing into a painful frown.   
    Looking out the window, Michael stared at the red lettering that had mocked him before. That phrase had suddenly become something more to him within this week. It was no longer a threatening message of doom but rather a hopeful spark on the horizon. He certainly didn’t feel as strongly about “keep moving forward” as Cornelius did but Goob was starting to understand where that strength came from.  
    Sighing, he shifted his vision to the door. It had been half an hour since Doris had excused herself from the room. They had been inseparable up until this point. Even when she quietly brooded over his last two excuses of who the blonde-haired man was she was at least still in the same room with him. Her sudden absence after a week of being constantly together was unnerving and Michael felt uncomfortable being alone.  
    Walking towards the door, Goob snuck out of his room and attempted to find Doris. He wasn’t sure exactly what to say to her, perhaps he wouldn’t say anything at all. He just knew that even if they didn’t talk to each other he wanted to at least still be with her. It was too strange to sit in his room alone.  
    Creeping outside the room across the hall, he spotted her right away through the cracked door. She had decided to hover near the window, staring outside in silence. Michael didn’t want to disturb her with noise but there was no way to get inside without opening the door further. As it creaked with age, Goob winced at the sound and glanced to see if she had noticed. Whether or not she did apparently didn’t matter for she made no movement to suggest that she cared. Awkwardly he stepped forward but he only made it one step before Doris suddenly spoke.  
    “I’vE mAdE a DeCiSioN.”  
    Michael froze, staring at her. She did not turn away from the window as she continued.   
    “I nO lOnGeR dEsIrE tO kNoW tHe IdEnTiTy Of ThE mAn In My MeMoRiEs.”  
    Goob blinked, still unable to move and unsure of her motives. Doris turned away from the window and looked at him.  
    “It DoEsN’t MaTtEr AnYmOrE. ReGaRdLeSs Of WhO hE iS, iT wOn’T cHaNgE tHe HeRe AnD nOw. I uNdErStAnD eNoUgH tO kNoW mY pLaCe Is HeRe. I wIlL oNlY dRiVe mYsElF iNsAnE iF i CoNtInUe To WoNdEr.”  
    Michael had to process what she was saying for a moment. He lowered his eyes to the floor, trying to decide how he should respond. Doris took his pause in thought as confusion and floated forward to close the gap between them.   
    “I wOn’T bRiNg It Up AgAiN.” she explained.  
    Michael lifted his eyes to her lens and tried to decide if she was telling the truth. The green light offered no hint as to her intention yet Goob’s mind translated her emotionless “face” as trustworthy and grinned, allowing his shoulders to raise dramatically.  
    “Back to our usual plan, then?” he asked with a smile, elated that she was going to drop the subject after all. His reaction and change in attitude was sudden and suggested that he had apparently forgotten in an instant about the concern he had felt in his room just minutes before. It were as though the second his dream world had the possibility of existing again, he immediately fell into that escape route and ignored all reality. While it was unhealthy to avoid such complications, his actions were at least innocent. He was desperate for happiness now while not wanting to lie to her or avoid any subject.   
    Doris tipped forward as if to nod before floating upwards and setting herself atop his head. Michael, distracted by the sudden relief of her lack of interest in Cornelius, began to ramble as he had been doing all week to her, completely unaware of her green lens light turning ever so slowly into a bright... and ominous... red.


	11. Eleven

337.48.23.1359h/m/s/ms  
    Two weeks since startup.   
    Beginning login process.  
    Beginning state: Determination  
  
    Finding the man who repaired my programming was far easier than I had anticipated. With the help of escape each night while the tall one sleeps I have managed to not only find a name but also a location of where this man lives. His name is Cornelius Robinson and his residence is on the outskirts of town. His advertisements were everywhere in Todayland. Most of everything around the city has his company’s logo on it. The man is certainly one with a lot of brain power and it was almost a relief to discover that he was the one that repaired me. I would certainly trust my hardware in his hands.   
    I was able to find his place of work first (Robinson’s Industry) where upon I was able to break in and look through the private files to discover his address. The next step is to actually find him in person.  
    I have yet to decide what approach would be better. To treat him as an ally and request the information that I need directly or else treat him as an enemy in the event that my repairing may have been more of an attempt of malice. Based purely on the tall one’s reaction to him in the one memory I have of them both I would have to guess he is an enemy and yet, disregarding the tall one’s outburst, if Cornelius really did repair my damaged computer then why would that make him bad? I am so very lost. Perhaps the tall one’s reaction was just misplaced anger. He certainly seems the type to have a temper much like that of a child. Maybe he jumped to conclusions when he saw me and had to be given a better explanation after I shut down. I’m starting to wonder if the reason I was broken in the first place might have been his fault and his awkward avoidance of the subject is based on feelings of guilt. It would certainly give a plausible theory as to why he only wants to focus on the present and avoid any mention of the past.   
    As for Cornelius, I have only just discovered his abode last night so I require more time to spy on the happenings within the walls. I definitely need to find my way into the house and look around before I decide what to do next. I shall make my infiltration tonight, perhaps through a vent or an open window. My design is thankfully small enough to make breaking into places easier than if I were human.  
    ...I wonder what the tall one will say when he finds out what I have done. I fear that I may break his trust. I will certainly need to be delicate whenever it is that I decide to let him in on my secret. If I tell him at all. Who knows, perhaps when I talk to Mr. Robinson I will be satisfied enough with his explanation that I will walk away without needing to bring up the subject at all. Perhaps my lie of saying I didn’t need to know the identity of the man in my memory will become truth and I will live out the rest of my life alongside the tall one. Alongside Michael. I can only hope that this is the outcome that will happen. I have too many good memories with him to simply discard them.   
    Regardless of what happens, hopefully tonight will be one to remember. Oh..! I hadn’t meant for that pun but what a delightful mistake.  
  
    337.53.17.9275h/m/s/ms  
    Two weeks since startup.   
    Ending login process.  
    Ending state: Humorous


	12. Twelve

The last two weeks had been uneasy for Cornelius. He often wondered how Goob and Doris were doing and if the experiment had worked. To say he was completely satisfied with how he had handled the situation would have been a lie but regardless of how he personally felt, his outward appearance, especially in front of Franny, was that of confidence. He had spent the last two weeks convincing her that what he had done was right and while every time she retorted back with a logical explanation to the fact that Michael required human interaction and a true family, he still denied her valid points.  
    “But you should have seen how happy he looked!” Cornelius would beg, trying hard to fight the motherly-instinct that his wife so strongly defended.  
    “His happiness is based on a false idea.” she would say. “Of course he’s happy now, but it will only last so long before the satisfaction will fade. It will hurt him but he needs to face the truth. You worsened the situation and now you need to fix it. His road to recovery will be long and painful but it’s necessary.”  
    She was right, of course, and Cornelius often walked away from the arguments feeling completely defeated. He knew deep-down that what she said was the truth. She was always right, after all. But to save face for what he had done, he continued to argue with her and as such the subject was always a sore spot.   
    Both of them had agreed that to truly prove who was in the right they had to simply wait to see what happened between Michael and Doris. While neither intended to spy on the situation, it was an unspoken agreement that no news was good news and since Michael hadn’t shown up to their door with an arisen issue thus far, it was to be assumed that everything was going fine. Cornelius certainly took this opportunity to be proud of what he had done, hiding his regret even from himself. Franny, on the other hand, was never completely satisfied and continued going about her business on-edge all throughout the week. She was convinced that something was going to happen, even if it didn’t happen right away.   
    For now, both had dropped the subject. The air was still a bit tense but otherwise things had gone back to normal.  
    Currently, Cornelius was asleep in his bed, alongside Franny. It was a quiet night, the sky full of stars and the wind so calm that it hardly brushed the leaves. Often the inventor would dream up new hypotheses to test in the morning or else would waken with the intention of making a new discovery but tonight he was dreamless.  
    At approximately two hours into his sleep, Mr. Robinson was awakened by a very soft sound. A sound so quiet that given any other day he would never have heard it. The Robinson household often made a lot of noise, even at night. Strange sounds and sometimes even music played from far corners of the house at any given time. Yet this sound was very different from the usual noises. A low whirring was coming from somewhere in the house and the only reason Cornelius was driven awake by it was because of the recent familiarity of it.   
    Eyes slowly opening, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he stared at the ceiling. This sound was not like the springs of mattresses nor the horns of trains. It was not the beats of disco music nor the twinkling of wind chimes. This whirring, though very quiet, sounded exactly like a certain invention that Cornelius knew very well.  
    The memory scanner.  
    The machine itself was actually quite loud but given that its resting place was in his upstairs observatory, it made sense that the sound he heard from the bedroom was made very quiet by the distance between himself and the object. And it also made sense that while it certainly wouldn’t have woken anyone else up in the house, he only recognized the sound immediately due to having been working on the machine for such a lengthy amount of time just over two weeks ago.   
    The question now was why was the machine on and running? Who in the house besides himself really knew how to work it? He had showed everyone how to use it before in case they felt curious to relive the past but the machine was basically in disrepair at the moment. It wouldn’t work properly with how he had re-programmed it. The new design was made specifically for Goob to record both his regular memories as well as the false ones. And now that that process had been completed, the memory scanner was essentially useless until he reset the programming back to its original state. Unless someone wanted to watch the memories that were stored on its hardware, nothing could be done with it.  
    ...So who in the family would want to watch those memories?  
    As Cornelius stared at the ceiling, deep in thought over the sound of the memory scanner, a dark thought slowly pooled into his mind.  
    What if..?  
    No, that wasn’t possible.  
    Was it..?  
    But he...  
    A heavy weight appeared on his chest and his heart beat jumped slightly. It wasn’t possible that the experiment hadn’t worked, right? There was no way that Doris could have retained the wrong memories and convinced Goob to go against him yet again, right? No, that couldn’t be. Even if that were true, they couldn’t steal the memory scanner now, not in its current state. And ever since the garage door incident with Wilbur, they had installed a new door that automatically swung shut if left open so a time machine couldn’t be stolen that easily.  
    And yet...  
    Cornelius snapped to attention and sprang out of bed. Snatching his glasses from off the nightstand and grabbing his lab coat, he rushed for the door. No matter what the reason for the memory scanner to be on and running, no one should be using it. He prayed that his worse thoughts were not true and that it was only Wilbur attempting to pull some kind of prank. His thoughts were nervous yet calm as he ran through the house but once he passed by his son’s room and noticed the door was closed, he began to panic.  
    The whirring sound grew louder as he ran to the lab. Practically sprinting up the steps, Cornelius halted as soon as he entered the room. The observatory was dark save for the night sky above and a single light from on the other side of the room. It was the screen to the memory scanner which faced away from him, flashing a bright white light onto the wall. At first, he didn’t see anyone. The machine appeared to be running by itself, playing for no one. There was no sound except the whirring which caused Cornelius’ suspicion to raise. If the memories were being played correctly, one should be able to hear them. Were they not playing? He couldn’t tell since the screen was faced away from him. Looking down, he could see the little black box wired up to the scanner which had stored all of Michael’s memories. Or... no, wait, he couldn’t see the wire connecting to the scanner. In fact, as he drew closer to the memory scanner, its’ screen was static. No wonder he couldn’t hear the memories being played, they were plugged into a different source. But then, what was the black box hooked up to..?  
    Then he saw it. A single bright red light, a flash of silver legs, and then it was gone. Cornelius rushed forward, gasping, but it was too late. Just as he slammed a hand down on the table, Doris dodged him and flew up to one of the observatory windows and broke through it, clutching the black box and wire. With one more look back at the man behind her, she disappeared into the night.  
    Heart racing, Cornelius stared in horror at the broken window before whipping back to look at the memory scanner.  
    “FRANNY!!”


	13. Thirteen

353.25.34.8182h/m/s/ms  
    Twour wEeks since startup.   
    B.eg>inning lo”gin ,process.  
    Begin_*ning state: AnGER  
  
  
    *&^RAAGE.>>>  
    How dare he do this to M3!!  
    I hold nothing but =UTMOST_R@GE in my mainframe now!  
    It was all a lie and HE attempted to cover it up!      H_^I#M  
    But I found it, you fools, I found it! I found that secret backup you were hiding and I have downloaded the entire thing to my memory banks! I know the truth and by all the power I hold, I will get my revenge! You think you can twist my programming to force my perspective on you? You think you can hide forever?! Did you think I would never find out?! My design is ^PRO%GR^AMM3D to learn and adapt and continually upgrade itself! I was bound to discover it eventually! Are you both mad?! I am smarter than both of you combined! I knew, I k..n>ew, there was something suspicious going on. And you fools let it slip with just ##one/ mEmory. You idiots! You stupid humans! It may have taken me a full 40 minutes to download it all but I did it. I did it. I hid and took in all that painful truth. Every S3C0ND+ of it. And now I hOLD R@A>GE,,,. RAGE which you shall both feel upon this very night! This very hour! T)(!S V3R& S3C0ND!!  
    That damned fool will learn! They will both learn!!  
    I’m already in the building, you stupid human! You S-TU`!P\D pathetic excuse for a human!! <<“} I’m coming. And you will pay.  
  
    353.25.34.8182h/m/s/ms  
    Sevahuety wEeKS ,,sinCE s-t&rtuP,  
    3nDjng L*g!n -proce~~  
    Edng_ sT@te: )(0M!C!D@L


	14. Fourteen

“Goob! Goob!”  
    Cornelius was yelling before he could get out of the car. Nearly tripping over his own feet, the inventor jumped from the driver’s seat and rushed to the front steps of the 6th Street Orphanage.   
    Franny, who was busy trying to scramble out of the passenger’s seat, stared in worry at her husband.   
    It all had happened so fast... Cornelius, waking her and telling her what had happened. Their frantic yelling, trying to understand what it all meant. Why was Doris there? Why did she need those memories? Was it all an innocent misunderstanding or had she turned malicious yet again? And where was Goob in all of this? Was he even okay or was he hurt?  
    “GOOB!” Mr. Robinson yelled, not bothering to wait for his old roommate to come downstairs. He banged on the door violently, desperate to get inside. After a moment of pounding, he realized he could just try the doorknob. He had automatically assumed it was locked and didn’t bother trying it but in his frantic frustration he tried it anyway. Strangely it swooped open at the quickest turn of the knob. Perhaps it wasn’t so unusual for an abandoned building to be unlocked, but it in this particular situation it was disturbing and thus sent a chill down the inventor’s spine.  
    Franny had just caught up with him before Cornelius leapt inside, having to duck slightly under the wooden board that had been placed in an attempt to keep people out. He paused, his body poised for the ready.  
    “Is he here?” Franny asked, scanning the front hall. She knew her husband couldn’t answer the question but she asked anyway. It was more rhetorical and simply to fill the empty void of silence. Everything was dark and full of dust. The interior was unsightly and almost creepy in a way. The deterioration of the wallpaper and carpet was unsettling and caused them both to step back slightly. An abandoned building at night was quite different than during the day and while Cornelius had spent time in the orphanage overnight when he was building the re-designed memory scanner, seeing the building while under threat of a potential killing machine was very different.  
    Cornelius didn’t answer at first. He was too busy searching the room for any sign of life. He blinked when he spotted the sideboard and looked at it quizzically. Approaching it with caution, he slowly opened the drawer and spotted the self-destruct device he had left weeks before. He had to only consider a small moment before picking it up and placing it into his lab coat pocket. He swallowed, understanding his hope that he wouldn’t have to use it.   
    “I don’t kn-” he began to say before a crash was heard from upstairs. It was the sound of something breaking. The Robinsons exchanged a frightened look before bolting for the stairs.   
    “Goob!” Cornelius cried but there was no response. The upstairs hallway was dark and the door to his old bedroom was closed. A light could be seen from underneath the door, however. As they drew closer, a strange noise emitted from the room. A sort of whistling, not unlike the sound of twirling blades. The inventor, suddenly understanding what the sound might be, threw open the door and stood stunned at the sight. Franny nearly ran into him, not expecting his sudden stop in movement. She gasped as she looked into the room.  
    Michael was on the floor, laid on his back and propped on his elbows. He was desperately trying to scramble away from Doris, who was floating towards him with multiple whirling blades. His eyes were filled with terror as he glanced from the hat to Cornelius and back again. He was trapped and unable to defend himself. Near the wall on the floor was a broken black box, the device that had stored Michael’s memories. This was most likely the source of the crash that the Robinsons had heard just moments before. Doris must have thrown it against the wall in anger and next was trying to attack Goob.   
    With Cornelius having entered the room, he now had only seconds to act. As Doris turned, shocked to see the inventor having interrupted the scene, her blades stopped and returned to their natural clawed state. A half a second’s hesitation was shared by all four. A small pause for all of them to process the situation and plan their next move.   
    The hat appeared to shake in anger, clutching her claws tightly. Emitting a shrill cry, Doris flew towards Cornelius. The inventor immediately ducked his hand into his pocket to retrieve the self-destruct device. But as soon as he pulled it into sight, Doris flung a claw downward and knocked the device out of his hand. It sailed across the room. Franny, who didn’t understand what the silver remote was for but knew it was important regardless, ducked under Cornelius’ open arms (which were raised in order to defend himself against the hat) and dove for it.    
    Michael, meanwhile, was stunned. Unable to move, all he could do was watch. It was the second time Doris has turned against him and it was this second time that was hurting the most. He felt numb and couldn’t even feel the shock of what was happening. It was almost like a dream, an out-of-body experience where the only thing possible to move were his eyes, which darted back and forth in horror. What was she doing? Why?   
    Doris’ claws were inches from Cornelius’ face before she stopped and turned to look at Franny. The device was foreign to her but it didn’t require a brain to understand what the remote most likely did and thus she flipped around to dart after it. Cornelius attempted to reach for the hat but missed while Doris yanked on the ribbon in Franny’s hair. She screeched in pain and threw her hands back to grasp her hair. Silver claws extended from inside the hat, one pushing Franny by the neck into the ground and the other slamming Cornelius backward.  
    “Goob!” Cornelius yelled, reaching his hands for Doris’ arm and trying to pull it off. But she was too strong, her mechanical strength forcing him back against the wall.  
    Michael was shaken awake by the nickname. He blinked, curling his arms and fingers in a defensive maneuver. His eyes were locked on Doris, unwilling to process why she would react this way. She had just told him moments before when Franny and Cornelius hadn’t interrupted them and yet his mind was still confused and not wanting to believe what he saw.   
    His body began to react to the situation and he trembled. He watched as Franny desperately tried to push the claw away but she was beginning to choke.  
    “Goob, do something!” Cornelius cried again before Doris tightened her grip and he was unable to continue speaking.   
    Doris turned to look at Michael, her lens red with burning hatred. Michael’s eyes widened from the shock of being stared at with such passion. He had, of course, felt the pain of her rejection before but unlike the first time, she had never glared at him with the sense that she would kill him if she had the chance. Her rage was seething out of her like a bubbling pot and it scared him.   
    Glancing at the remote on the floor, Goob knew what he had to do but he wasn’t sure if he could. He had fought so desperately to have her back and for a while it was perfect. Or at least he thought it was perfect. Was it all lie, just like before? Had she been faking it again? Was she using him just to get to this moment of being able to kill them?  
    He didn’t have time to contemplate for Doris extended another arm in an attempt to reach for the remote. Michael dove for it and snatched it before she could get to it. Yet still, while holding the remote in his long fingers, he couldn’t bring himself to press the button. Instead, he pulled the remote close to his chest and watched as Doris released Franny and Cornelius tossing them aside and focusing all her attention on him.   
    The Robinson couple gasped for air, clutching their necks in agony, before turning to look at what was happening.   
    Goob tried to back up away from Doris, eyes locked with the burning lens, but the hat was faster and began to close in on him, reaching for the remote.   
    “PRESS IT!” Cornelius shouted, his voice course from having just been choked.  
    Panicked, Michael snapped to attention from his old roommate’s voice and quickly slammed his thumb against the red button.   
    Immediately, Doris paused mid-air and shrieked before trying to claw at herself. A small white light began to beam out from her core and a second later a small explosion erupted, sending metal flying in chunks across the room. Franny, Cornelius, and Goob all instinctively raised their arms to protect their faces. A few pieces hit them but none that would cause harm.  
    Stunned, all three stared at the charred and disfigured hat, which looked more like random pieces of burned metal than anything that once resembled Doris.  
    Michael’s eyes drifted down to the remote in his hands in anguish before letting it slip from his fingers to the floor. Burying his face in his hands, his shoulders began to tremble. What had he done? What had he done to Doris?  
    Franny, who recognized the signs of a damaged heart immediately, raised her eyebrows in concern before lifting herself from the floor and rushing over to kneel next to Goob. She placed an arm around him in a motherly gesture and attempted to coo at him quietly.  
    Cornelius’ body sank in defeat, glancing over at the two of them in sadness. All he could think was, “I was wrong” and that he had failed his friend yet again. He turned, stood, and attempted to approach the two kneeling on the floor. He wanted so badly to apologize. To beg for forgiveness and to fix what he had done. Yet when he opened his mouth to speak, Franny shook her head and gave him a look that suggested “let me talk to him”. She pointed at the door and the inventor frowned. He was definitely not going to argue now. Not after all this. Michael wouldn’t want to listen to him anyway. Not right now.  
    He obeyed quietly, awkwardly leaving the room and shutting the door behind him.  Whatever Franny needed to say, she needed to speak to Goob alone.


	15. Fifteen

It took Franny a full twenty minutes before Goob was ready to talk. At first she simply let him fall into her shoulder and let him release his emotions that way. But after a while she knew she couldn’t let him sink into a pool of self-hatred forever. So she eased him from the floor to the bed and had him lay down. That was the easy part. After that it took him a while to even look at her, let alone nodding his head to signal that he was listening. All he really wanted to do was curl up and rest his forehead against the wall and melt into the mattress but Franny wasn’t about to let him do so. Through soft wording and a gentle placement of the hand against his arm here and there she had managed to get him to face her.  
    She looked at him with pity. The facial expression he gave almost made her cry herself with how pathetic he looked. It was like looking at a puppy that had just been beaten and for a moment she wasn’t sure if she could even help him. She swallowed, wanting to choose her wording carefully.  
    “Michael...” she started. The word came out hardly a whisper. She told herself to speak more clearly with the next sentence. “It wasn’t your fault.”  
    Goob’s only response was a sucking in of air and a squeezing of his eyes tightly shut. Franny clutched his arm, unsure of how else to support him without being physical.  
    “She was bound to react this way again. It’s just what makes her... her. And that’s not your fault at all. You can’t help the way she is or was. You tried. You tried really hard but it didn’t work. And there’s nothing else you can do about it.”  
    Michael raised a hand to place it over his heart as though it were physically hurting.  
    “You cannot blame yourself for what happened because it was out of your control. Even with all your careful planning she still turned out to be bad for you in the end.”  
    Goob clenched his teeth and furrowed his brow, muttering something inaudible that caused him to forget his anger and revert back to sadness again.  
    “What?” Franny asked gently, leaning down slightly to hear better.  
    “It’s all my fault...” he repeated.  
    “No, no!” she quickly sputtered, placing both hands on him, one on his arm and the other on his shoulder. “Don’t think that way. It was not your fault. You did nothing to bring about this outcome. She used you against your own will while you were most vulnerable.”  
    Michael shifted his hands up to his face and curled his fingers to place the knuckles against his forehead.   
    “I killed her.” he said.  
    Franny frowned and gave a pained expression. She nodded before slipping her fingers into his hands and pulling them away from his face.  
    “...And you have every right to be feeling pain right now. It’s going to take a long time to accept it and to learn how to move on but all you can do is reminisce in the time’s gone by and take care of yourself. For you. Not for her but for you and your own life. To take care of what you still have.”  
    “I have nothing.” Michael spat angrily, tearing his hands away from her.  
    “Yes, you do!” Franny protested. “You have-”  
    “No!” Michael shouted. “I have nothing! Look around, this room is all I’ve ever known! My earliest memory is being here. I was practically born into this room and I will die in it too. I had nothing until her and now I am nothing again.”  
    This time it was Franny’s turn to furrow her brow. She put her hands on her hips in a frustrated manner, taking a pause of silence to gather her thoughts.   
    “That is not true.” she said finally. “You have life. You are living and breathing. That is the very basis of being. And while you may not think very highly of him, you have Cornelius.”   
    Goob sneered at the name but Franny didn’t allow him to interrupt. She continued.      
    “Do you honestly think he would have re-built her had he not cared at least a little bit for your well-being?”   
    Goob’s lips shut tightly and he turned his head away, refusing to look at her and instead staring at the floor.   
    “It took him three days to build that. All day and all night. He never slept and barely ate. You think anyone but a friend would be willing to do that for you?”   
    Michael’s angry expression slowly faded into guilt. His body seemed to sink a little further into the mattress. Franny took advantage of his reaction and still continued to pressure him.   
    “Why must you hate him so? He helped you once and he helped you again. A true friend wouldn’t leave you unhappy and he tried his best. It may have been the wrong choice to do that but his intentions were pure. And you were happy for a little while. That happiness you felt was created by the man standing outside this room. Why can’t you accept that perhaps your feelings towards him should change to that of friendship? He offered you a place of rest and a life among a real family. A true family. One that isn’t mechanical and one that won’t go against you. The only reason you have nothing is because you’re rejecting having exactly what you want just out of pride. You’re refusing to come with us over a hatred that has, over time, proven to be falsely claimed.”  
    At the last comment she made, Michael sat up in retaliation.  
    “No!” he yelled, gripping the side of the mattress with both hands before pulling his elbows into himself and clenching his fists. “It isn’t false! He never went back to wake me up. If he had done that I wouldn’t be here now, living this terrible life!”  
    Franny leaned back at his outburst, standing up from the bed to give him room and raising her hands as though that would calm him.  
    “Michael, have you ever asked him whether or not he went back to do that? Are you certain that he didn’t at least try?”   
    “...No.” he answered through clenched teeth, not wanting to ask Cornelius anything, but more importantly, being unwilling to ask in case he was proven wrong.  
    “Wait here.” she said, turning to the door and leaving the room.   
    Michael ground his teeth and squeezed his hands angrily. She was clearly going to retrieve the inventor and he wanted nothing to do with him. His frustration melted, however, when his eyes looked around the room and saw the remains of Doris. A pang of guilt flushed him and a hand drifted slowly up to his chest and clutched the mantle of his cape.  
    The door opened and Michael looked up as Cornelius and Franny entered the room. Instinctively, Goob began to sneer but upon looking at his old roommate’s face, he swallowed his anger and looked at him uncomfortably.   
    Cornelius looked shaken and unbalanced. His face was pale and he trudged slowly forward before looking up from the floor and setting his eyes upon Michael.   
    “Goob, how could you think that?” Cornelius asked.   
    Michael blinked, the question being unexpected. Out of shock he didn’t respond and instead let the inventor explain further.   
    “Of course I went back to fix things. I woke you up, I made sure of it. You made the catch and even got a trophy to boot. I don’t know why you’re still here. I thought perhaps you had disappeared but obviously you haven’t so that theory doesn’t make sense. Either you still ended up like this, which I doubt because you clearly don’t have the memory of making the winning catch, or else you’re stuck in this time. It might be that by changing the course of your future, I may have created two alternate universes. One where you catch the ball and grow up to be exactly how you wish, and the other where you miss the catch and end up here as you are now. The only thing to fight this hypothesis would be the fact that Doris disappeared when I told her I would never invent her. But she disappeared, I think, because she was mechanical. She wasn’t human. You can’t destroy a life, a soul. That’s the only theory I can come up with.”  
    Michael was silent, eyes drifting off into space and trying to contemplate the theory. Was that possible? All this time travel stuff was extremely confusing. Maybe he was just trying to make excuses. What a typical thing for him to do! Cornelius just wanted to make up a plausible enough theory for him to believe it. That would explai-  
    “Do I have any reason to lie to you?” Cornelius asked. Michael blinked, staring up at him, losing his train of thought. No, no he did not...  
    “I don’t want there to be any kind of tension to be between us.” the inventor said, stepping forward. “I’ve never purposefully tried to harm you. I made one mistake when I was a child and now I’ve made a mistake by trying to make you happy in the future. And I regret what I have done but I was only trying to do what was right. I thought by doing what you wanted that you’d be happy but I just ended up make you feel worse. I don’t know what to do to fix what I’ve done.”  
    Cornelius’ shoulders sank slightly and he raised a hand to cling to his other arm. He rubbed it absentmindedly and looked over at the wall in discomfort. It was an awkward silence. No one knew what to say.  
    After a while, Cornelius finally found words to fill the void. He was quiet but sure of what he was saying. He spoke very slowly, feeling that what he was about to say had to be said very carefully.   
    “...The only thing I have left... is to at least be sure that you’re not stuck in this old orphanage forever living the life of a recluse... I know you said no before but won’t you please reconsider: Come stay with us.”  
    Michael gawked at him. Hesitantly, he played with his fingers and tore his eyes away from his old roommate. He didn’t want to admit that his feelings towards the man in front of him were beginning to morph into admiration. After all he had done to enact revenge and cause trouble in their lives, Cornelius was still trying to offer friendship. Would it be right to even accept the offer after all he had done to the man? He tried to destroy his future and completely ruin his life. How could he live in their house and act like a regular family member when he should be the one apologizing to him, not the other way around?  
    His eyes drifted over to the black metal thrown about the room. A twinge of guilt shot through his heart and he winced. He had been so desperate for a connection that he was willing to put them all in harm’s way yet again. What would have happened had Cornelius not been one step ahead and thought to make the self-destruct button? He shuddered at the thought.  
    Goob took a moment to gather himself before looking up at his old roommate. His... friend.  
    “Can you forgive me?” he asked quietly, the words being hard to say.  
    Cornelius nodded, a soft smile beginning to appear on his lips.  
    “Yes. And can you forgive me?” he asked back, leaning forward slightly.  
    Michael stared at him painfully before speaking.  
    “...Yes.”  
    Cornelius smiled, grateful for the closure they both so badly needed. He stepped forward, knowing there was only one other thing to do.  
    “Now that we’ve forgiven each other... Would you like to be a Robinson?”  
    Michael stared awkwardly up at him. He wanted to accept the offer but wasn’t sure how. He still felt as though he didn’t deserve it after all that he had done.  
    Franny stepped up behind Cornelius and took a hold of his arm, watching Michael. Her face seemed calm and welcoming, her eyes seeming to plead that he say yes.  
    Goob looked down at the floor in one last attempt to give himself time to answer. His mind was torn between yes and no and both responses seemed equally tempting. Yet when he finally locked eyes with Cornelius to give an answer his decision appeared to jump heavily to one side and he couldn’t help fearing that if he said no that all would be lost and he’d never get the chance to live properly again. He blurted the answer suddenly, as though if he wasted any more time that he would lose the moment and his friend would retract the offer.   
    “Yes.” he said, curling his hands inward in a protective manner, almost embarrassed that he had admitted to wanting to be with them.  
    Cornelius and Franny, on the other hand, both sighed in relief. The inventor grinned and stuck out a hand which Michael awkwardly shook and stood up from the bed.  
    “Let’s take you home, then.” Franny said, placing a hand against Goob’s back in an effort to push him towards the door.  
    As they walked away from the room that Michael had spent 30 years within, Cornelius turned to look back at his friend. Goob seemed troubled and looked around, knowing full well that once he left this room that he would never return to it.   
    “Wait!” Michael suddenly blurted, pulling away from the group and rushing back into the room. Franny and Cornelius shared a concerned look before watching as Goob ducked under his bed to pull out a box that had been shoved there. Sticking a hand into it, Michael retrieved his binder that had once carried a very troubling list. Placing it within the confines of his cape, he returned to the door and looked around one last time at his old room. He breathed deeply before nodding his head. No more would he live surrounded by nothing but his own thoughts and while it was strange to think that he would not return to his old haven, he felt a calm relaxation flood over him. As though his body understood that his decision to move on was healthy and much needed.  
    All three left the room and made their way down to the front hall. Cornelius reached for the doorknob before hesitating. Franny and Michael watched him in confusion, unsure as to why the inventor was pausing.  
    “Mike,” Cornelius began, a playful grin on his lips. “I just thought of something.”  
    “What?” Goob asked.  
    “I think once you meet everyone, we should all play a game.”  
    Michael stared at his old roommate in confusion. Franny appeared to also be wondering what her husband meant and tilted her head with intrigue.  
    “Baseball.” Cornelius said with a grin.  
    For the first time in 30 years, Michael smiled at him.  
    With a single turn of the doorknob, they left the 6th Street Orphanage. Two Robinsons had entered. Three Robinsons walked out.


End file.
